The Morlock Chronicles, Part 1: The Highlander and the Celt
by Merkwurdigliebe
Summary: Two star-crossed lovers fight for love, honor, and a future in their new homeland. But one of them harbors a deadly secret that could jeopardize the balance of power in the post-Arthurian realms of Hibernia, Midgard, and Albion.
1. Chapter 1

**STOP**

_The Morlock Chronicles_ is best read _in medias res_ **starting with** Part Two: "Passion's Daughter", followed by Part One: "The Highlander and the Celt" and then the rest, however reading in chronological order is also perfectly acceptable.

* * *

This story was originally posted by me on the _Dark Age of Camelot_ Vault Network (now IGN) story boards in 2002, then reposted on Kelryck's DAoC Role Play Community & Story Archives in 2003.

To preserve the original text, most formatting, some errors, and all the silliness that stems from one's first attempts at writing fanfiction (especially video game fanfiction) have been left unaltered.

Feel free to read the (slightly) updated version on AO3 which includes all the "fun stuff" put back in (and some new stuff just for good measure).

* * *

Oh muse! Sing in me, and through me tell the story

of two people whose stars were crossed,

and whose love changed the course of history…

* * *

This dungeon was never the mercenary's favorite and now he was in unfamiliar territory. He looked around and saw his four companions - the ones who had led him here - dead. They lay in a neat circle about him alongside the five Hibernians they had just slain. How he had survived and his friends had not he would never understand, but that was something to think about later.

He was alone now. And he was in enemy territory. It was not all bad though since Hibernia was not in control of this dungeon at the moment. However, at a moment's notice, dozens of elves could come streaming down the hallway with the express purpose of using the highlander's nipples for target practice. The thought made the mercenary jealous of his infiltrator cousins.

"Time to find a way out." he mumbled under his breath. Sheathing his swords the mercenary made his way down the first passage and was immediately greeted by a high wall. _This must be the way to the elves' land_, he thought. There was no way for him to scale the rock and he retraced his steps. He didn't want to go to their silly home anyway.

In the main hall he noticed a pair of daemon worshipers under the arch. He felt at ease since there were no daemons accompanying them and they had always left him alone for the most part. Aside from the dirty looks he received the kilt-wearing fighter managed to pass without incident. Two more passages left to try and the one to the left was full of the most disgusting creatures he had ever seen. _Right, then._

"Feck!" he exclaimed a little too loudly. The echo reverberated throughout the closed chapel as another dead end greeted the mercenary. In his rage he still noted the more refined stonework in this area. Almost as if the foul beasts never wandered here. He turned around to leave when he heard a shuffle behind him.

Timber Walker's Defender came out of its sheath in the blink of an eye as the mercenary spun around expecting to deflect an assassin's blade. But there was nothing there. The highlander continued to listen as he pulled his other blade slowly and silently from his belt. _The sounds in this place scatter like light off a diamond_, he thought. The source was not going to be easy to find. He crept slowly towards the back of the hall where he now saw a small alcove. He paused to listen and saw a small foot being pulled out of sight.

Years of stupidity kicked in and the highlander charged the alcove blindly. With his twin swords at the ready he slammed into the back wall with his shoulder and faced his enemy. What he saw gave him a start. He had expected a Lurikeen with a pointy stick ready to shove it in his knee, but instead he found a Celt lying on the ground with its eyes clenched shut. And she was a woman, or at least would be someday for this Celt was nearly a child. _Good God_, he thought, _are they so desperate for control of the land that they would send a girl not even 20 seasons old off to fight?_ The girl opened her eyes and looked up at the highlander with the look of a wounded puppy. That was when he noticed she was holding her side and bleeding profusely.

Years of stupidity kicked in again as he sheathed both weapons and reached for the girl's peculiar armor. The celtling pulled back uttering something in a language the highlander did not understand. He assumed it was a prayer to her pagan gods. He moved her hands and saw that her tunic had a clean cut across it. As did her side.

The mercenary, who had been highly trained in inflicting such wounds, now wondered if he could do anything to aid the girl. He poked at the gash in the Celt's side with the all the care and grace of a spraggon at lunchtime causing the girl to suck in her breath and her eyes to well up with more tears. The mercenary began to regret ignoring the friar in his group and his cries of "On me! On me!" Not that he would have done anything to help an invader. In fact he was more likely to take his staff and bludgeon her further towards death despite her obvious helplessness. In between short breaths the celtling began speaking to him in a frightened voice.

"I'm not _trying_ to hurt you; just trying to help" he replied angrily. She became fed up with his ham-fisted medical attention and smacked his hand away and continued to babble in her Celtic tongue before the pain silenced her. The highlander was ready to "aid" her in the friar method as well but realized that he was not doing much good. He checked his supplies for anything that may help dress the wound and found nothing but a pouch of dirt.

"Can't give that up; took me half an hour to collect it." he said holding up the pouch and smiling at the girl who returned his words with a blank (albeit teary) stare. His moronic grin disappeared as the entire dungeon began to shake. The sound of a giant winch and clanging of tremendous gears rattled throughout the alcove for several minutes then abruptly stopped.

The mercenary furrowed his brow in a vain attempt to understand the situation, but the look of relief on the celtling's face as she tried to peer around the corner left no doubt in his mind that the hibbies had just gained access to the dungeon.

"Arse!" The mercenary stared down the hallway towards the Hibernian entrance with great trepidation then turned back to the girl in his care. Her smile was fading and the color was draining from her face as she collapsed on the stone. _Oh dear_, he thought. _She's not going to last long, certainly not long enough for her comrades to find her all the way back here._ He thought for a moment.

Years of stupidity kicked in once again as the mercenary picked up the bleeding girl. He noted that Celt women certainly were a lot more dainty than those he grew up with in Humberton. He carried the girl towards the first passage hoping to leave her in sight of any newcomers entering the dungeon. With any luck they would find her soon and heal her wounds, and he would be long gone before they had a chance to use his rear for a spear holder.

Much to the highlander's discomfort, the girl put her arms around his neck as he carried her. His unease increased when she began mumbling deliriously into his neck. With great relief (accompanied by a little disappointment) the mercenary placed the girl at the foot of the steep steps. She opened her eyes and looked up at him with an expression he could not discern. He looked down at her sadly then looked up to see an arrow whizzing towards his head.

He jerked to the side - the arrow barely missing him. He looked back to see the archer's furry companion charging towards him. With both weapons in hand the mercenary parried the spear that was about to pierce his brain. And they said I was MAD to train that, he chuckled to himself.

The Firbolg was slow but heavily armored; the highlander was not going to do much damage to this one regardless of a few lucky hits. The archer behind the big fuzzy was notching another arrow as well. Just as the mercenary was about to sprint away, the wounded Celt girl let out a moan that caused the firbolg to turn around and look. Seeing his opportunity, the mercenary jammed both blades into his opponent's tremendous rear followed by a sweep across his legs. The mercenary turned and ran as fast as his legs would move hearing the firbolg howl in pain behind him.

When he reached the next crossroads he saw a glowing portal to his right. Can't lead to anything worse, he thought and dashed for the daemon arch. An arrow planted itself in his left shoulder but his run for the exit continued. _I hope those miserable sods stopped to heal the poor girl_, he hoped as his world faded around him in a blur of pink and purple.

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Posted September 2nd, 2019


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Rhodri looked up from his desk as the highlander entered flanked by two guards. He was a busy man with the weight of his title apparent on his grizzled features. His job of monitoring those who passed to and from Snowdonia, organizing reinforcements for the relic keep, as well as defending the border from the Arwanites kept him constantly on alert. He was a busy man without having to deal with the bureaucrats in Camelot and their..._people_, he thought.

The Captain looked back down at his paper work and thought of his latest problem as he signed the last of the documents. The Guild of Shadows had always been useful to the forces of Camelot, but Rhodri never liked dealing with them. He felt that wars were won with open conflict; not with subversion. But when Camelot needed help he was willing to provide support, even if it meant dealing with the untrustworthy folk.

"Mercenary." Rhodri began speaking to the entrant without looking at him as he leaned back in his chair. "How fairs the task I set before you with the isolationists?"

"It goes, Captain" replied the highlander with a hint of venom. Rhodri winced in anger at the use of his title. He composed himself and gave a false smile.

"Last week we gave you the task of finding the isolationist courier and bringing back some information. Have you brought me anything of use?"

"No. I haven't brought you anything because I didn't come here; your men brought _me_."

"Exactly," Rhodri smiled. "I had you brought here because I was curious as to why my desk is empty of the information I requested!" The Captain's rising voiced was accented by his unexpected leap from the chair. The highlander did not flinch but watched as Rhodri's anger subsided into controlled rage. "Perhaps I should give the job to Pipe, eh? She's just about ready." He smiled at his own joke. "Your catassing about Darkness Falls instead of doing what was asked of you is not the only reason I called you here." The highlander looked stoic. "My scouts have informed me that you saved the life of an invader during your little foray, mercenary."

The highlander thought for a moment and chose his next word poorly. "And?"

Rhodri came around and sat on the front of his desk with his eyes firmly on the highlander, his smile betrayed both glee and joy. "I know you, mercenary. Remember when you used to be in my army? I do. I also remember why you left, or should I say 'was asked to leave' or perhaps to put it even more accurately 'was forced to leave?' Mmmmm?" The highlander's eyes narrowed which lifted the hardened Rhodri's heart even further. He continued, "You joined the guild of shadows after your little 'incident' and now you work for money, and somehow you still work for me." The captain was on his feet and his face inches from that of the highlander's.

"Look," the highlander interrupted, looking at his wrist, "I'm a busy man. What is it you really want to say to me, Captain?" Rhodri relaxed and leaned back.

"Only this: Finish your job, take your reward that for some reason Camelot feels obligated to give you, and try not to force yourself further into my debt with your betrayal. You either work for the defense of Camelot when told, or face the executioner's axe from which I saved you." With this Rhodri turned around and sat back into his chair. "Get him out of my sight and don't let him back in unless he has those papers with him," he told the guards. The highlander turned to leave.

"I hope you cram then up yer arse, ya big, fecking eejit," he mumbled.

"What did you say?!" Rhodri roared.

"I said 'I'm growing chrysanthemum in the yard for my aunt Edith.'"

"Oh yes. They are lovely flowers aren't they. My sister grows them in Ipswich." The highlander smirked at Rhodri's clueless response.

"I know me own way out," the highlander spat at the guards with a wave.

"Oh, and mercenary," the captain called as he left, "if you don't address me as 'My Lord' the next time I see you I'll see to it that Master Arenis finds out just why you joined his guild. You're not in my army anymore and I prefer that you civilians address me as just what it is I am: your better."

* * *

The Celtling sat on a washed up log and peered sadly over the shores of Connla. For three days she had been lost in melancholy, thinking about the incident in the dungeon. No matter how hard she tried she could not rid herself of the image of the highlander.

The breeze tossed her thin blond hair about her face as she sighed. _Why does his face haunt me_, she thought as she looked down at the scar on her side. It was still a little tender but the druid that saved her in Darkness Falls assured her the pain would subside in a few days. She touched her side and the slight discomfort reminded her of how the highlander had also touched the wound. He seemed so cruel at that moment but then he proceeded to saved her.

"Hadn't he?" she murmured to herself. Surely she would have died had be not carried her to the entrance where she was found by her friends.

"Hadn't he what?" The voice startled her. The celtling turned around to see Ilisa looking at her thoughtfully. "Hadn't he what, child?" she repeated.

"I was just thinking about...what happened in the dungeon, Mistress." the celtling replied as she turned away to hide the tears that were welling up slowly.

"Ah, yes. I heard about your little 'adventure'." Ilisa sat down on the log beside her student and comforted her with an arm around the shoulder.

"Yes." she chuckled weakly and wiping the tears, "I suppose half of Shannon Estuary knows about it now: me being the only survivor and 'saved at the last minute before the cruel Alb finished me off'." The celtling looked up at Ilisa for the first time and the Blademistress's voice took on a firm but gentle tone.

"Child, the Path of Harmony teaches us to recognize where Harmony is absent," Ilisa began, "and an Initiate could tell that you are upset about something far worse than the incident everyone is circulating throughout the village. Come now. You're sobbing like a nightshade on patch day." The Celtling gave a sobbing giggle at Ilisa's joke. "Please. Tell me what happened that night. I want to know from the source. Harmony requires Truth, child."

The celtling composed herself and turned to face her mistress. Ilisa was more than her teacher; she was the only family she had known for the last fifteen seasons. She focused for a moment on her discipline and began, "I don't think the highlander was going to kill me." Ilisa's face betrayed her surprise. She had expected that her student's depression had been caused by her violation at the hand of the enemy. The celtling's statement gave her much concern.

"Why do you believe this?" she replied shortly.

"He, he never touched me. The wound I received was from one of the denizens of that awful dungeon. I had crawled into the shrine when I heard the fight between my companions and the invaders hoping to hide from them until it was safe, but everyone one was killed except for the highlander." Ilisa's face gave no hint of accusation or comfort, only the request for more information. "When he found me I closed my eyes waiting for him to finish me off but the blow never came. I opened my eyes and he just stared at me." The celtling stuttered, "H-he even attempted to dress my wound, of that I am sure!"

The celtling sighed. "Everyone would tell me I was sick with delirium if I told them that he actually carried me from the shrine to the steps where I was found. I didn't believe it myself at the time. Before Lego Lass and Teddi RucksPins attacked him he seemed almost sad looking down at me."

"Well..." began Ilisa not knowing exactly what she was going to say.

"Don't you see?! Once he saw that I was hurt he not only let me live, but he helped me!"

Ilisa was taken aback. She knew the celtling was headstrong, but she had never suffered such outbursts from a student in all her years of teaching. Her stoic demeanor returned. "And you are torn apart by this because..." she trailed off knowing the answer.

"Because he's the 'enemy'. We've always been taught that all those from the other realms are our enemy. But this man has proved that to be wrong. Who knows about what else we're wrong." She hung her head expecting a reprimand from Ilisa.

"Congratulations, child." Ilisa's words were sad but held hope. "You have learned much in your teachings. Harmony cannot exist without Truth and you have learned one important aspect concerning that pillar of our beliefs: many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view. Once you realize that everyone has their own view of Truth, and you can see their view, you are further along the Path than most."

"But...the Albs...they may see _us _as the aggressors?" The confused celtling looked up at her mistress's lavender eyes. Ilisa nodded. The celtling stared at the waters for a moment then turned back to her teacher. "How did this war begin?"

Ilisa sighed. "Who can say? Each side accuses the other. It may have been started by all sides. Perhaps the people's imbalance with the land. Perhaps the gods simply demanded we fight."

The celtling looked back towards the beach. She refused to believe that it was her people's fate to fight forever. She looked over the land and saw a beauty that she did not wish to stop fighting for. Her confusion was compounded by the memory of the young highlander's sad expression. _What was he thinking?_ she wondered. _Is he as confused and unsettled as I?_

Her thoughts of the highlander were interrupted by her teacher's voice. "Come. I think your inner knowledge has helped you advance enough to learn a new trick. Have you ever tried to wield three swords?" The blademistress grinned mischievously upon seeing the celtling's confused look.

"Three? Wha-?" She furrowed her brow. Ilisa winked at her and led her to the training hut.

* * *

Posted September 4th, 2019


	3. Chapter 3

Determined to find the highlander who had saved her life, the celtling decided to once again journey to Darkness Falls. She made no mention of her journey to Ilisa for she would know immediately what the celtling's intentions were. She especially didn't want to tell her this time since it was her aim to seek out the highlander on his own turf.

"Are you brain dead?! We can't let her join; she'll never make it past the plate fiends!" The champion's protests did little to dissuade the group. Nor did it phase the celtling. Standing nearly half the height of the Firbolg glaring at her, she stood proud in her new armor ready to tackle anything to achieve her goal.

"Ah, don't worry, Fletch. It'll be good experience for her. Besides, you can intercept for her." The group's druid chuckled at the eldritch's words.

"Easy for you to say, Merrimack; you're not the one taking the hit. And what about you? Don't you want me to protect you?"

"Quit complaining. You'll probably only take a scratch, and don't worry about me; I'll be way behind you making _your_ job that much easier. Now c'mon. I'm leading this party and I say she's in. You can take it or leave it." Merrimack Silverleaf smirked at the champion who had finally calmed down realizing that his only chance at getting an imp weapon was rapidly drying up.

"Very well. But she get base buffs only!"

"You do your job, 'grover', and I'll do mine." laughed the druid who danced around Fletch teasingly.

The celtling tried not to look intimidated as the group departed. She knew this would not be easy but she never realized just how recalcitrant a champion could be. She adjusted the stiff reinforced tunic stopping to admire the high quality of Kasienka's workmanship. Her entire set had even been graciously donated by the crafter.

"Will someone get this walking carpet out of my way." Ceilidh joked in line drawing yet another glare from Fletch. As the group departed the celtling began to question her decision.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to be going back to the dungeon after what Rhodri said?" questioned the friar. The highlander kept walking without responding; his dark chain mail clinking as he walked. With two swords at the ready and another on his back, the young highlander was an intimidating sight but he looked almost casual now with only his gloves, boots, tunic and kilt. He sat down on a grassy knoll as a zombie and three skeletons casually walked by.

The highlander considered Ramelik for a moment and spoke, "I don't think I have to worry about Rhodri for a while. He's never given me a job that was time sensitive." He smirked thinking about his former captain.

Another member of their group, the cleric Isabella, had arrived. "Yes, well...he sounded pretty serious this time. Honestly, I can't believe he let you live after he heard about what you did in there." She motioned towards the crumbling tower. "I'm having a little trouble believing it myself."

"As am I." Ramelik added. The highlander ignored them and began digging through his backpack for the rest of his armor. Isabella considered the highlander as he searched. She had known him for only a few seasons but she knew enough of his past to worry about his future. If only she knew exactly why he had betrayed his company. He had never done anything to risk the lives of his guildmates. At least not yet.

"She wasn't going to hurt anyone; I saw no reason to kill her. It hardly would have been sporting of me to do so even if she wasn't half dead." he said looking up at Isabella. His eyes quickly darted from her accusing face. _I wish she wouldn't look at me like that_, he thought. _ I'm nervous enough as it is_.

"You're thinking of her, aren't you?" the cleric asked almost rhetorically. Something in her voice frightened the highlander. She sounded almost saddened by the revelation. He turned to her and sighed heavily.

"Whoa, let's not get started on this again." the friar's chuckle garnered him two glares. Throwing up his hands in defeat he settled down on the grass and uncorked a wineskin. The highlander took Isabella aside and spoke in a reassuring voice.

"Please don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Really." He smiled.

"It's not just you I'm worried about." she began sadly. "I'm afraid the group could be compromised if we see her again. I'm beginning to understand why you were thrown out of the Defenders and nearly executed. You can't keep up this emotional battle. It's either us or them!"

The highlander's face turned grim and he held the cleric by her shoulders. "There is no honor in killing those who cannot defend themselves. Perhaps one day you will understand that."

"She's just going to come back stronger and next time," she delivered her words slowly, "you may not be so lucky." Isabella disengaged herself from his grasp and headed towards the broken tower. "We'd better hurry before it closes." The highlander pulled his cloak over his head and followed once she and Ramelik had reached a short distance ahead.

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Posted September 8th, 2019


	4. Chapter 4

The Succubi were out in force this night. The celtling's group was making short work of the lone daemonesses but the rapidly changing ownership of the dungeon was making the prospect of both Albion and Midgard invaders very real; life could quickly become much more complicated for the small group.

"How's this for an enlightening experience?" the eldritch asked her between pulls.

"Uh, hard to say." She backed away as the ranger brought two more of the flying daemoness's friends charging. "Anything is better than nothing, right?"

"So they tell me!" the eldritch yelled as he fired off a massive spelled that nearly knocked the group's nightshade over.

"Ack! Watch your target, Elf!" the Lurikeen yelled angrily. His anger didn't last long though as the Nightmare took a swipe at him. The tiny man ducked the blow easily slamming his rapier in its side at the same time.

Before them was a room filled with the flying denizens. The celtling wondered just how they were going to make it past so many. The champion noticed her quizzical look.

"To the left you'll find Midgard. Center is Albion. I wouldn't go right if I didn't have an army with me." he told her as he bashed another Nightmare across the head as it headed for Ceilidh.

"Why not? What's down there, Fletch?" she yelled back trying to hear her own voice over the din.

"Certain death for little ones like you." the champion said matter-of-factly.

_Hardly matters_, she thought. _I'm only interested in straight ahead._

* * *

"Hey, look. I think I see people across the room." Ramelik whispered to the group.

"Hibs, and they're out of range." one of the archers growled. The highlander noticed them too and was busy sizing them up.

"Think we can sneak past the succubi and nail them?"

"Doubt it; they've probably seen us, and whoever draws those monsters first gets to fight two battles."

"Odd group," Isabella noted, "they've have a young one with them. She can't be getting much out of this."

"Bah, twinkers. We'll teach 'em a lesson," the friar laughed. The group hesitated for a moment and watched. More succubi began encircling the Hibernians and soon the room was clear.

"Now's our chance! Go!" the second scout yelled. The highlander locked onto the minstrel and followed his companions into the room, but as they reached the center more succubi appeared out of nowhere.

"Dammit!" the highlander yelled as he dived in front of the friar taking a claw to the head. The celtling looked up upon hearing the curse and saw the new adversaries engaged in their own battle.

"Albs!" the champion announced, but Silverleaf was one step ahead of him. The eldritch aimed for the Briton wearing chain mail and wielding a shield and let fly a barrage of dark energy. The highlander charged on the elf but was cut off by another succubi. He parried its blow and sliced its wing before looking up to see an eight-foot firbolg navigating a tremendous two-handed hammer towards the highlander's head. The mercenary narrowly evaded the blow as well as the succubi coming from behind which instead slammed head-on into the champion.

When the highlander picked himself off the floor and locked onto his next target, he froze. The celtling stood ten yards before him. Her eyes locked onto him and her mouth opened in disbelief. _It's him! _her mind yelled at her.

"What are you doing?!" someone yelled out. The mercenary didn't have time to answer as he saw another succubi swooping down on the celtling.

"Look out!" he yelled and pointed over her head. The celtling did not understand the words but the urgency of his voice caused her to drop and roll immediately. The highlander charged and placed two swords into the beasts torso only to be confronted by another. He felt something on his back and glanced to see the celtling had steadied herself on him and was fending off yet another flying daemon woman.

Blow after blow was parried by the mercenary and he heard the clang of claw on steel behind him as well. _She's not going to last much longer_, he thought. The highlander began looking for an opening in the cloud of wings. He sliced the succubi's belly open and turned around to grab the celtling. She felt herself jerked to the side as a large claw slashed the air where her head had been. The highlander said something to her and pointed at a purple glow down the right hallway. She looked up at him scared. She did not know what he was doing but his arm around her waist urged her to move.

The pair sprinted for the portal with most of the succubi in tow much to the utter disbelief of their companions.

* * *

Posted September 13th, 2019


	5. Chapter 5

The highlander and the Celt landed with a thud on the dirt floor. It was still as dark as the dungeon but the cool air made it clear they were outside. The celtling tried to pull herself up and survey her surroundings but the highlander pushed her down quickly and threw his black cloak over her. She peered out from under the cowl and saw plated soldiers pacing the ramparts of a keep. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the raised marble platform of the Albion portal keep.

The highlander knew he had to get her out of there before the wizards saw her or she would be dead before she could scream. The highlander pulled the celtling up and rushed out of the keep doors as the guards eyed his cloaked companion suspiciously. It was not until they were well clear of the keep that he was able to take a good look at their surroundings. They were in Emain. The absence of snow and the familiar graveyard told the highlander that much.

"Better get beyond the mile wall." he thought out loud while peering through the gloom of night. _At least there was no one else about_, he thought. _Here's hoping the wall will be empty as well_. The celtling's heart was pounding in her chest. She was too afraid to pull back the hood to look at him. She was certain death was close and wondered why she had ever made this journey.

"C'mon." the highlander said as he tugged her arm, but the celtling stumbled and yelped. The highlander chided himself for his own impatience with the girl and knelt in front of her as she remained frozen on all fours. He pulled back the hood of his cloak she wore and saw her terror-stricken face. "Hey." he whispered soothingly, "It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you." He took off his mail glove, stroked her cheek and tucked an errant strand of blond hair behind her ear. She looked up at him which drew a smile from his face. She didn't even realize it as he took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet all the while her eyes never leaving his. "Let's go."

The mile wall was empty much to their relief and they headed to an abandoned stone hut secluded in the nearby woods. Dawn was beginning to break by then and a bright shaft of light poured in through a hole in the top of the abandoned domicile. Few of these structures remained standing in the frontier lands since the wars started and the wild beasts had moved back, but the highlander knew that it would provide temporary shelter until night fell again and they could move about safely. _But move to where? I've really done it this time_, the mercenary thought to himself as he kept watch while the celtling rested up from her ordeal.

The celtling sat with her knees pulled to her chin on the highlander's cloak which he had placed on the grass which now served as the hut's floor. _He saved me again! _her mind reeled. She looked up at him as he pulled off his tunic and pulled his highland sash back in place over his white shirt. The celtling's heart skipped a beat and her breathing became short. _What's happening to me? Why does he have this effect on me? _She stood up and approached the young man cautiously.

The highlander turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the young woman standing right in front of him. "H-hi..." he stammered.

"Why did you save my life?" she asked. The highlander furrowed his brow in a vain attempt to understand her strange language. He was about to attempt a reply but her hazel eyes stole all thoughts from his head.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't..." he tried to tell her something but all he could do was cradle her face in his hands. She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm rubbing her cheek. Looking up she saw his terror-stricken face. Her hands found their way to his waist as she stood on her toes and kissed him.

The girl's knees melted as he returned her kiss passionately. The highlander felt his hands sliding down her back to hold her waist as if they had plans of their own. Suddenly the clasps on the celtling's tunic would not come undone fast enough for her liking. The highlander sat her down on his cloak while barely breaking the kiss and helped her frantic hands with her armor. The girl felt a tug on her leggings and lay back allowing her companion to slide them off. Then, suddenly, something black flew over her head and hit the wall behind her. She looked up and realized it was his chain leggings.

The celtling, lying prone on the ground in only her undergarments, looked up to see the older man standing before her in nothing but a plaid skirt. She giggled despite herself and the highlander fell to his knees abruptly causing her to shriek with laughter.

"I'll teach you to laugh at a highlander, young lady!" He growled menacingly, grabbed her hands and wrestled her to the floor. The weight of his chest on hers caused her giggles to subsided, replaced with moans as he kissed her deeply. Wrapping her legs about his waist, she pulled him tightly thus producing a delightful sensation that made her shiver slightly.

The pair's lovemaking was brief but passionate and when her first experience was over the celtling held onto her savior. "Don't ever leave me!" she pleaded while holding him tightly until her need for a deep breath forced her to push him away. The young highlander rolled onto his back but the celtling quickly snuggled up beside him throwing her knee over his hips and cradling his head in her arms.

"Don't ever leave me!" she pleaded while holding him tightly until her need for a deep breath forced her to push him away. The young highlander rolled onto his back but the celtling quickly snuggled up beside him throwing her knee over his hips and cradling his head in her arms.

The celtling played with her new toy; the highlander felt her exploring and inspecting him as a mother would inspect a new-born child. _He's so beautiful_; she marveled as her fingers danced over his nose and ran through his dark-brown hair. She played with the beads of sweat on his forehead and let out a high-pitched sigh.

The highlander looked up at her. _Even upside down her smile warms my heart_, he thought to himself. Neither of them thought of their differences; only the passion they shared.

He stroked her calf and told her, "The last time I saved one of your kind my reward was almost an axe to the neck. I prefer your reward by far." She grinned at him in response to his mysterious, yet mirthful words. Her mischievous look gave the highlander a chuckle before his demeanor turned sad. "I don't even know your name," he lamented to the tousled blonde girl. Her face brightened in recognition of one word. She placed a hand between her breasts and spoke.

"Keeley." She paused then said the word again while watching his expression closely.

"Keeley," he repeated and smiled. The highlander stopped stroking her hair for a moment, pointed to himself and said, "Eirik."

"Eirik," she whispered lovingly while caressing his face. "Tá grád agam duit, Eirik," she whispered into his ear.

"I love you too," he replied, certain of her meaning.

* * *

Posted September 18th, 2019


	6. Chapter 6

Eirik stared out the window of Dakkon's tower at the Albion milegate. _Home_, he thought to himself. The setting sun cast an orange hue across the gate revealing the otherwise utilitarian structure's beauty. The Highlander had never taken notice of the wall; it was for keeping the horde away from the keep that Albion had claimed in Emain Macha, or for keeping Albion at bay - he never could remember which. And now he could only see the monument of conflict as a magnificent portal back to the only home he had ever known. _I wonder if I'll ever see it again._

Eirik's consort, Keeley, stirred behind him. The young Celt woman lay curled up on a bed of hay; her body wrapped in the Highlander's midnight-black cloak. Hearing her, the highlander turned to watch her and, for the moment, forgot his troubles. His eyes followed the curve of her hip beneath the cloak: a testament to her womanhood. His gaze continued to her face, which was framed by her blond tresses, and to a small pool of saliva by her lips: a testament to her sound sleep. Eirik chuckled softly. He wanted to stare at her forever but his thoughts kept turning him back to the wall that lay to the East.

His movement had awoken Keeley and she finally struggled to drag herself from the fog but the highlander's magically-warm cloak made sleep too desirable. The celtling moaned and her mind began to sort through her surroundings. Eventually she remembered where she was and what she had done.

A smile curled her lips.

Her eyes immediately found the highlander standing at the tower's window. She wondered if what had happened that morning was just a dream. Unnoticed by her companion her hand crept down between her legs to find the remnants of their lovemaking. Keeley sighed deeply and her smile broadened.

Keeley did not feel the need to get up as she observed her highland lover. His dark brown hair, which had accumulated a considerable shine, glistened in the sun's dying rays. She watched him pull its shoulder-length back away from his face. A stubbly beard was beginning to cover his cheeks. The Celtling felt her pulse quicken again however his expression gave her some concern. Groggily she pulled herself up. Clutching the cloak around her body she went to see what was causing him so much apprehension.

Eirik turned to his new love as she sidled up to him and looked out the window. Seeing only the milegate she turned back to him with a look of concern. The highlander smiled at her but his eyes were beginning to tear.

"I can't go back, can I?" His voice cracked and the first of the tears began to roll down his cheek. He glanced away for a second then returned to her gaze. He regained control of his emotions for a moment but his eyes seemed to plead to her. Keeley was frightened; she could not understand why her lover - her mhuirnín - was so upset. Eirik's hands trembled as he caressed her neck. Keeley held him tightly burying her head in his furry chest. Still fighting back the sobs, the highlander stroked the girl's hair. Her next words sounded like a question but the highlander could not understand her exactly.

"I have nowhere to go," he whispered as tilted her head up and kissed her on the forehead. Keeley strained to understand him. Eirik sighed knowing she could not possibly know what he was saying. Suddenly Keeley became very frightened. _No! _her mind screamed, _he cannot leave!_ Keeley's pleas turned into sobs as she babbled in her foreign tongue faster than the highlander had ever heard the language spoken. Eirik was thoroughly confused by her outburst. _She doesn't understand_, he realized.

Eirik did his best to calm her down then pulled out a bronze medallion with a goblet engraved on it. Keeley recognized it as the symbol of Albion. The highlander tossed it out the window then looked back to his love with sad eyes. Now it was Keeley's turn to furrow her brow. "N-ní thuigim." she said as she wiped her eyes. She looked out the window again. _The Albion barrier_, she realized. _He's trapped here_. _He can't go home._ Keeley began to understand the full magnitude of her lover's (and her own) predicament. _He sacrificed it all. For me._

The two embraced and Keeley could feel the highlander beginning to cry. Eirik's mind was in fear's full grip now. He wondered if he would ever see his friends again, and how he would survive. And most importantly: how would his decision effect the young woman he had saved.

"Eirik." Keeley tried to hush her lover's tears but she was fighting her own as well. Looking into his eyes and trying to smile the celtling tried to communicate the only solution she could think of, or would accept. "Come with me." The highlander returned her Celtic words with his usual confused look. Keeley pointed South.

The highlander did not understand at first, but his grief softened as he realized her proposal. "We can try. Oh, Eirik, an dtuigeann tú?" She began to cry again. "I want you with me," she whispered. The highlander clutched her and looked behind him. Through the tower door he could see the Hibernian frontier stretching as far as the eye could see.

"Hibernia," he said to himself. Keeley gasped and smiled at him. _It could work, I suppose, _he thought. Eirik turned back to the woman in his arms. Keeley's eyes were wet with tears but her smiled betrayed her joy. The highlander began to remember just why he had chosen his path, and that home was not always defined by a country.

Eirik took a deep breath and held his love tightly. "It _will _work."

* * *

Lord J'nar stood in front of the window at the top of his tower. "Have you ever stood and stared at it, Cresil? Marveled at its beauty?" The assassin walked up beside J'nar and looked out the window. Camelot was indeed a sight to behold. The city sported high towers and cobbled roads of stone. Markets shaded by tents offered every possible item and delight a citizen could want, and secret rooms behind local inns offered what most never could imagine.

"Did you realize that before our 'dearly departed king' built this city all there was here was swamp?" The grizzled Avalonian smirked to himself still staring out the window.

_Swamp? _the Briton puzzled. "But, m'lord, I thought..."

"What news did you say you had for me?" J'nar interrupted. The ancient cabalist turned his back on the infiltrator and walked back to his chair so his servant would not see his wry grin.

"Aye, m'lord. I thought this may be of interest to you. A hunting party from Darkness Falls returned...well, actually only one of them returned, their cleric, and..."

"And just why did you think I would care about this, Cresil? Mmmmm?"

"Well, m'lord, she says one of their members abandoned them in the middle of a fight with some invaders from Hibernia..."

J'nar became impatient. "That is nothing unusual, Cresil. People do this all the time. Honestly when was the last time you ever fought _other _people?" The cabalist was not a patient man and people wasting his time were a particular annoyance.

Cresil shifted uneasily. "Yes, m'lord. But she said he left them to help one of the invaders. He even fled with her, a Celt woman" J'nar became more interested at this point. "And she said it was the mercenary, Eirik," the infiltrator paused a moment before finishing, "Rhodri's man." J'nar scowled. The name was a curse to the council-member. More than once Rhodri had made life difficult for him.

"Where are they now?" J'nar demanded calmly, his eyes narrowing.

"My spies saw them fleeing into Emain Macha where they lost sight of them. I can only assume..."

"I don't want assumption, fool. I want to know exactly where they are." The Avalonian elder punctuated his last words by sitting up and bringing himself to full height in front of his spy.

"Y-yes, m'lord." Cresil paused.

"NOW!" yelled J'nar. Cresil vanished from the room. When the cabalist was sure he was gone he sat back down and began to contemplate the new events.

* * *

Posted September 21st, 2019


	7. Chapter 7

When darkness had fallen the highlander and the Celt suited up for their long trek. Keeley had begun to lace up her tunic when, for the first time, the highlander noticed the scar above her right hip. Eirik walked over to her and lightly stroked the skin around the fresh, pink scar. Eirik thought about the first time they had "met" and the wound she had suffered at the hands of the daemons in Darkness Falls. Keeley smiled at his touch and continued struggling with her tunic. When she finally looked up at the highlander and saw his object of interest the celtling grinned.

"It's alright. You can touch it." she said as she grabbed his hand and held it firmly against her scar. Eirik looked up at her; he could not help but chuckle at Keeley's mischievous grin. Once the two finished dressing and arming themselves, Eirik checked the area around the tower for enemies. With the hill clear he motioned Keeley forward giving her a playful pat on the rear out the door. The celtling shot him an angry look but the highlander merely responded with a wink.

Sticking close to the mountains and traveling under the cloak of night, the two lovers carefully made their way across the Hibernian frontier. For two days they traversed the countryside, stopping each dawn to seek rest and refuge. It was not until the gates of Druim Caine were almost in sight that Keeley realized something very important.

"Shite!" she exclaimed a little too loudly.

"What?" Eirik drew his swords and looked around frantically. Seeing nothing he turned to Keeley who was looking at him and holding her forehead. She began speaking to him and fiddling with his clothes. "What? What's wrong?" Keeley frowned at the highlander and gripped his plaid sash. "Ah." Eirik now joined in on the frowning. "I suppose I can't get past the guards looking like I just walked in from Humberton." The highlander removed his sash and, rather reluctantly, his kilt then turned to Keeley who was still frowning. "Now what?" the highlander exclaimed.

Keeley thought for a moment then attempted the words. "Ch-chain. No chain!"

"Oh ya." Eirik had never thought about it before but he realized he had never seen a Hibernian wearing chain armor before. He looked around. _Only another hour or so before dawn_, he thought. _Not much time._ A shuffle drew his attention and he noticed Keeley rifling through her backpack. After a minute of searching she pulled out some worn armor and gave it to the Highlander. Eirik eyed the items suspiciously; they were leather but with some peculiar strips woven in. It would not afford much protection if the guards got wise to them, but he sensed a more immediate concern.

"Well, this may work, Keeley, but if this is yours," he paused looking down at the celtling who stood nearly a head shorter than the highlander, "how's it going to fit me?" Keeley ignored his protests and ushered him into the trees to change. To Eirik's amazement the armor fit. The celtling gave her companion's attire a once-over and with an approving look they continued on their way.

As they approached the gates Keeley's heart pounded in her chest. _Oh please let this work,_ she thought to herself. Eirik seemed calm but inwardly he was waiting for the barrage of arrows that normally welcomes those who tread too closely to the frontier gate. The celtling pulled the highlander's hood more securely around his head and prayed.

The sentinels outside the keep took little notice and once the pair entered the central courtyard Keeley sighed with relief. There was only an elf and two lurikeens besides the guards and Keeley did not recognize any of them. Getting Eirik to Shannon Estuary would be easy at this point since the homeland sentinels were not looking for invaders. However the problem of what to do with him once they reached the village of Connla had yet to be solved but Keeley put it out of her mind.

The celtling grabbed the Highlander's hand and snuggled up to him as they left the fortress, a huge smile on her face. Eirik hugged her back and wondered what she had planned for him now. Could they find a home together in her land? Would he be accepted? Maybe she was taking him to her land to be sacrificed to their pagan gods!

Eirik began to panic. Keeley did not see his concern but simply sighed with joy and held him close as they made their way south.

* * *

The Valley of Brileith was a welcome sight for Keeley but Eirik found it to be the most bizarre place he had ever seen. He had never seen many of the strange beasts of Keeley's native land - due to his preference for the daemon-filled Darkness Falls over raiding other lands - and Keeley often had to urge him forward.

Skirting around the village of Caille, they made their way to the eastern shore of a tremendous lake. Keeley knew that there would be no patrols on this shoreline and she decided it would be best to follow it all the way to Shannon Estuary. For the most part their journey was uneventful, however a few Sheevra gave the highlander suspicious looks while ignoring the young Celt woman altogether.

A brilliant orange sun hung just above the waters of Shannon Estuary when the young lovers reached the bridge to what Eirik guessed was their final destination. The celtling held her breath again as they crossed. A grizzled old fisherman greeted her but she hurried past with just an abrupt greeting hoping he did not want her to stop for a chat.

Keeley stopped on the outskirts of Connla. Pensively she turned to the highlander and wondered how to explain her companion to the village. "What are we doing now?" he whispered. Keeley hushed him and looked around uneasily. Finally she took Eirik's head in her hands and reached up to kiss him deeply.

The highlander looked worried upon the kiss's release and Keeley tried to urge him to remain. He watched her scamper off into the village and disappear into one of the huts. The highlander looked around nervously. A rather large rat with a fresh bone of unknown origin in its jaws wandered past.

"Great. Wonderful." he cursed under his breath. "Terrific place she left me in." The highlander wondered if the rest of her village was as "nice." However Eirik's thoughts were interrupted by the approach of two guards. He peered out from under his cowl trying to assess them as he moved off the path. There was still some light out and he knew his disguise would not hold if they decided to investigate. Which they did.

"C'ainm atá ort?" the female sentinel called out to him. Eirik froze in his tracks but did not turn around. Silently, beneath his cloak, he released the clasps on his scabbards. The highlander cursed when he noticed he was still wearing the light armor Keeley had given him. Perhaps if he ignored the guards they would leave him be. "Cá as tú?" the woman insisted a little more sternly. When she did not receive an answer she approached the cloaked figure and repeated her question. Eirik tried to walk away but before he could take another step the sentinel reached over and flung his hood back. The woman recoiled but her shock wore off quickly and her right hand shot to her blade in the blink of an eye. "Norse!" her alarm cry went out.

Eirik unsheathed his left-hand sword to block the sentinel's first blow and returned it with a handful of dirt originating from the gold-stitched pouch on his belt. The woman screamed in pain and clutched her eyes which stung under the effect of the Dartmoor clay. The sentinel's guardian companion had just reached the highlander's position when Eirik pulled out his other sword.

"Keeley?! A little help?!" the highlander yelled towards the village. He began working his blades furiously in an attempt to ward off the guardian's blows. Looking past his adversary he saw the inhabitants of the village pouring out of the huts in response to the alarm. Most stood and stared but a few began charging at the Highlander. One of them, a sandy-haired Celt, began notching an arrow. Eirik tried to swing around the guardian in order to keep him between the ranger and himself.

Keeley had also heard the alarm. When she burst out of the hut and saw the commotion she rushed towards her lover, fighting off the mob frantically. An older woman followed close behind with a pair of vicious-looking swords at the ready.

Eirik evaded another of the guardian's blows and returned it with a slash across his right arm causing him to recoil in pain. The guardian was bleeding but the highlander was breathless with exhaustion from fighting the superior warrior. Just as the dusty sentinel was about to rejoin her partner, Keeley pushed through the gathering crowd and positioned herself between the combatants. The ranger jerked away at the last moment causing his arrow to miss the girl by a few inches.

Stunned by her actions, the guardian backed off to avoid harming the young blademistress who had interfered but the fumbling sentinel beside them took a swipe at the invader nearly hitting Keeley in the process. The celtling's right blade shot out to deflect the sentinel's attack and, with a quick twist, knocked the guard's sword from her hand.

With her twin blades poised menacingly and her back pressed firmly up against her lover's chest, Keeley slowly backed the two of them away from the mob amidst a cacophony of Gaelic that assaulted Eirik's ears. His protector began shouting back at them until the tall, older blademistress that had followed her approached and spoke calmly to Keeley. The highlander had no idea what the two of them were saying, but Keeley's words soon became tearful. Eirik now feared for her safety and saw only one way out of their situation.

Eirik held his swords out beside him and dropped them. Startled, Keeley turned around to find the highlander holding his empty hands above his head in surrender. The crowd quieted in response to the invader's actions. Not knowing what to make of the situation, the guardian simply waited for the sentinel's orders.

"Ní thuigim!" Keeley cried as she tried to hold her love. Eirik held her back not wanting her to get in the way if the ranger decided to shoot at him again.

"It's the only way, Keeley. Don't worry. Everything will be alright." The highlander tried to believe his own words. Keeping his arms outstretched he backed away from the girl who stood before him. All Keeley could do was stare, her face a mixture of anguish and disbelief.

Eirik turned around to face the sentinel who glared at him angrily and slammed the edge of her shield into his stomach. The highlander doubled over and fell to the ground. Keeley tried to help but the guardian held her back. The sentinel was about to kick the highlander in the face as he lay on the ground when someone stopped her. Eirik looked up to see the seasoned blademistress who had spoken to Keeley now giving the sentinel a stern look.

Keeley watched terrified as her lover was bound and lead away to await his fate.

* * *

Posted September 21st, 2019


	8. Chapter 8

Keeley sat upon the washed-up log on Connla's sandy shore and peered sadly at the makeshift prison hut. The flames of the evening bonfire cast an orange glow on the celtling's tear streaked cheeks. One of the men guarding the hut shifted uneasily under the Celt girl's watchful eye until his superior barked sharply at him. However Keeley was not looking at the hut; her gaze focused well beyond the drab structure and its wardens deep into the forest beyond in sad reverie. Outside another building a young man kept watch over the celtling. A frustrated sigh erupted behind the sandy-haired Celt and he turned to greet its source.

"She's still there?" Ilisa asked rhetorically.

"Aye." Liam replied. The ranger propped himself up on the steps of the village's only stone structure and fiddled with his bow. Ilisa turned from her student to the ranger.

"Has she said anything?"

"No." he replied almost indignantly. "She won't speak to me! Honestly, Ilisa, what has gotten into her?" The blademistress hushed the ranger with a wave of hand. Even though he was several seasons older than Keeley, Liam had been her closest friend while they were growing up. Often referring to each other as 'brother' and 'sister,' the two of them were nearly inseparable for many years and Keeley's behavior had begun to worry the ranger.

"I'd better try to talk to her again."

Keeley did not acknowledge her teacher's presence as she approached. Ilisa stood beside the log for a moment contemplating the young guardian. The celtling kept her gaze towards the prison that held the invader, her knees clutched firmly to her chin. The veteran blademistress did not miss the moisture under the girl's eyes.

"It's been over a week now." Keeley's words startled Ilisa. "I would like to see him - make sure he's still even alive." The girl's words were emotionless and almost mechanical; her gaze never shifting from the hut. Ilisa sighed again and stroked the girl's hair.

"I'm sorry, Keeley, but the council hasn't decided what to do with him yet."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Keeley nearly yelled finally turning to her teacher. "You're on the council, after all!" The older woman was taken aback by the girl's outburst but realized her emotional state was the cause of her disrespectful words.

"I'm very sorry, child. I know this is hard for you." Ilisa paused for a moment and sat down next to the celtling. "Actually I have no idea how you are feeling, Keeley." Ilisa looked down at the ground. "This is not the sort of thing that happens every day, you know. Neither myself nor the council fully understands what is going on between you two."

"I already told you, mistress," the girl sniffled, "he saved me...twice. And because of it he is an exile; a man with no home." She buried her face in her knees and began sobbing. "Because of me!" Putting an arm around her shoulder, Ilisa tried to console the girl.

"I know." she said softly. "So you have told me." Ilisa eyed her student cautiously and was about to speak before deciding against pursuing the subject any deeper. Keeley leaned against her but continued to stare at the prison hut which had held her attention for so long. The elder blademistress held her pupil until the tears ran dry then gently brought her to her feet.

"Keeley, we need to talk." Ilisa looked the girl in the eyes. "Lady Eileen wishes to hear the story from you. Personally." Keeley's eyes widened. "Aye. You know this is important, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"This is your chance to help him." Ilisa's stern visage faded as quickly as it had appeared when she saw how frightened the celtling had become. "Don't worry, child. A little advice, though: be honest with her." Keeley tried to compose herself with little success.

"When does she want to see me?"

"Now." Ilisa replied. Keeley nodded soberly as Ilisa led her away.

* * *

The celtling entered Lady Eileen's private hut to find the elderly druid fussing over a potted plant. The doors closed behind the girl with a light thud but the council elder did not turn from her activities to acknowledge her. Keeley fidgeted and looked about at the interior of the hut while she waited.

Lady Eileen had a habit of collecting items of all sort and it showed in her home's decor. The hut was not spartan, in fact it was the furthest thing from it. Totems, some familiar to the young blademistress and others most exotic, littered the floor. Most had been pushed aside to make a path through the cluttered hut. A large collection of somewhat lewd tribal objects were piled together against the far wall.

The druid's desk was another epic of disorder. Where there was not a pile of scrolls, there would be found a pile rocks. Some of the rocks were being used to hold open several scroll, but all Keeley could see on them were scribbles that had been crossed out.

The celtling's eyes were drawn to the fire beside where Lady Eileen stood. In front of the hearth had been placed two cushions. Above the hearth on the mantel lay a sleeping kitten.

"Ah! Better." The old woman's words startled the girl. When she finally turned around, Keeley was greeted with a warm smile. "What do you think, my dear? Homey, is it not?" she said with a grand motion of her arms. Keeley could not find any words in her throat. "Oh, dear. Where are my manners? Please, child. Come sit." Lady Eileen gestured to the cushions before the fire.

"Th-thank you, m'lady." The celtling sat, afraid to look the council elder in the eye. She was joined by her hostess who had mysteriously acquired two cups of steaming liquid. Keeley took the one she was offered and held it up to her nose. Its earthy aroma filled her nostrils and the girl began to relax under its influence. After a few sips the old woman broke the calculated silence.

"So, Keeley, I understand you've had quite an adventure." Keeley looked up from her cup. Lady Eileen peered over her own cup, her bright, blue eyes had a mischievous twinkle in them. "Won't you tell me about it?" the elder asked with a wry smile.

"I-I don't know where to begin, m'lady." Nervous, the girl looked at the old woman. Lady Eileen had been the village's figurehead for as long as Keeley could remember. Even though her wrinkled features spoke of a long career in the defense of Hibernia, the druid's bright eyes betrayed a youthful exuberance that Keeley had never seen in one so old.

"Well, you could start at the beginning, my dear."

"I thought everyone knew about that. How much do you know?"

"Pretend I know nothing, dear." she replied as she set down her cup and propped her elbows up on her knees giving Keeley her full attention. The celtling began relating the story of how she went exploring the new dungeon alone against the advice of her teacher, her unfortunate encounter with a naburite drinker, and how the highlander found her near death by the imps. When she had finished the first part of her story, Keeley's hostess was grinning broadly at her.

"So you went back there to look for him." Eileen stated rather than asked.

"A-aye, yes."

"And what happened?"

"I found him," Keeley fidgeted, "but I was in over my head again. He and his companions became engaged with the same monsters we were fighting when they approached us."

"You mean 'attacked you'?" the elder asked. Keeley was silent for a moment then stared at the floor and nodded.

"But he didn't attack us! He actually came to my aid. If he hadn't I would surely be dead. We escaped through a magic portal but I ended up in one of Albion's castles along with him. I think he saved me again from his own guards this time." Keeley shivered despite the warm fire. The thought of how many times she had come close to death had only just begun to dawn on her. She wondered if she would have been better as a craftsman's apprentice; spending all her time in Tir na Nog where it was safe. Lady Eileen noticed her discomfort and handed her cup to her.

"So you and your new friend escaped into our frontier and then what?" The druid's expression was no longer as jovial as it was when they had started. "I don't imagine the two of you discussed sewing." Keeley blushed heavily.

"We…" she paused, "we 'joined'."

"I see. Willingly?" Keeley nodded. Lady Eileen gave the celtling a moment to relax and waited for her to take another sip. "How was it?" The girl coughed and sputtered from nearly inhaling her entire drink. The druid produced a piece of cloth for the celtling and patted her on the back. "That good, aye?" Keeley looked up to see her hostess trying to hold back a fit of laughter. "I am sorry, my dear." she laughed. "You just seemed so tense. Had I known you would forget how to drink, I would not have done that." When Keeley's coughing fit had ended the druid continued. "So why bring him here, Keeley?"

The celtling looked dumbstruck for a moment. "Eirik had nowhere to go. H-he had forsaken his own people by helping me; he couldn't go back to Albion, not that I would have let him try. I know he could live here; it wouldn't be the first time. What about Kaylee and her family who came to live..." Keeley cut her words short and the druid looked at her sternly.

"That tale does not have a happy ending, child." The celtling nodded solemnly

"I know it will work. I just know it."

"I understand dear. That's enough for now." the druid hushed her then thought silently. Keeley wondered what was going to happen next. For what seemed like an eternity the council elder sat and stared off into the distance. "Several things still puzzle me, Keeley." The celtling nearly jumped. "One thing: why you refer to your companion as 'Highlander'." Keeley became confused.

"What?"

"Oh, I realize that a kilt was found in his belongings when he was captured, you said yourself he was seen with other Albions, and for all we know he speaks only the Albion language," the druid continued, "but you strip all that away and the fellow is most assuredly Norse in heritage. After all, dear, 'Eirik' is a Norse name." Keeley sat dumbfounded.

"I don't understand..."

"I'm sorry." The druid stood up. "I think there is more to your friend than you know. You must realize that things in Albion are much different than they are here. Just because he carries two weapons does not mean he follows the same teachings as guardians who choose the Path of Harmony." The celtling's questioning look gave the druid reason to continue. "I can only assume he is a member of the guild of shadows, Keeley."

"No. No, no. That's not possible." the girl had stood up but her legs were beginning to fail her. "He's no assassin! I won't believe it!"

"Steady, child." the woman chided. Keeley tried to back up and nearly fell over a pile of books but the druid caught her with uncanny reflexes. The celtling sat on the floor stunned by the new revelation. "I'm sorry, dear, but there is too much in doubt about your friend. His fate will have to be decided by the town. Tomorrow we will hold a discussion." Keeley looked up at the old woman, her eyes filling with tears.

"M'lady, I must see him. I beg you. Please let me see him." Lady Eileen studied the young blademistress for a moment then nodded.

* * *

Keeley raced towards the prison hut. The guards immediately barred her entrance but Liam, who was catching up to his friend, waved them off.

"It's alright. We have the council's permission." he said showing them their authorization. The senior guard studied the papers Liam had handed him for a moment then motioned to his subordinate to open the door. Keeley was ill-prepared for what she saw.

The dingy hut was bisected by a set of iron bars which included a small door. The highlander lay curled up on the dirt floor on the other side of the bars wearing only tattered rags. An awful smell assaulted the celtling's nostrils.

"Eirik!" she cried grabbing the bars. The highlander leapt to his feet upon hearing his name. Seeing Keeley lifted his heart tremendously. He had begun to wonder if she had been executed for treason or at least imprisoned. The two embraced through the bars and the celtling began to cry with a mixture of joy and heartache. Eirik looked at his love. Apart from red, puffy eyes she seemed physically sound so he assumed she had faired the better for their ordeal.

"Oh, Keeley I'm so glad you're alright." Eirik kissed the weeping girl soundly on the forehead. She responded in her own tongue and the highlander hushed her. "It's alright, Keeley. I'm so sorry to have put you through this." he soothed. It was then he noticed the same ranger who had taken a shot at him standing beside the door. The ranger stared back stoically. Eirik turned his attention back to his love. The celtling pressed herself against the bars in an effort to get as close to him as possible. "I pray this isn't our last time together but if it is I wish I could let you know that I would not trade this time for anything."

After several minutes of watching his friend cry in the arms of the barbarian, Liam approached the two lovers. "I think we had better go, Keeley. You have a big day tomorrow and it would be best if you got some sleep beforehand." The celtling reluctantly disengaged from Eirik giving him one last kiss.

"Oíche mhaith, rún mo chroí." she whispered in his ear before following Liam out the door. The highlander watched her leave and then it became his turn to cry.

* * *

Lady Eileen scratched Critter's ears eliciting a delighted purr from him. The white kitten had been given to her by a group of adventurers who had found him while on a mission to the Pennine Mountains. The elderly woman never did ask exactly how they came across the furry thing; she felt discretion in the matter would be wise.

She sat in her chair letting Critter curl up in her lap and it was not long before the kitten was fast asleep. She contemplated the kitten's blissful life when a knock at her door interrupted her.

"Enter." The druid did not look up from her pet to greet her guest. "What did you learn?" she asked.

"Not much I'm afraid. But it's obvious he returns her affections." Liam answered. The woman looked the ranger straight in the eyes and considered his answer.

"Close the door and tell me as much as you can then."

* * *

Posted September 25th, 2019


	9. Chapter 9

Dawn broke and, through the small crack in his prison, the highlander watched the sunrise for what he feared would be the last time. Eirik was sure that his meeting with Keeley the night before was a gift before his execution, and the unusually grand meal he had just been brought served only to reinforced this conclusion. His daily meal usually consisted of moldy bread and turbid water, however this morning he had been given fresh bread, clean water, and (to his utter amazement) a slice of the richest cheese he had ever tasted.

The firbolg that brought him his meal left without making eye contact with the highlander. Eirik finished his meal and sat back against the hut's walls. _Die here, or die at home_, he thought. The sun shone though the crack and projected a long shaft of light across the dirt floor. The highlander heaved a sigh and tried in vain to relax. The sliver of light now crossed his lap and he held out his hand in an attempt to catch the sun one last time. _I wonder how long I have. Oh, Keeley, I'm so sorry._ "I'm sorry I came so far only to fail," he whispered to himself.

Time drew out like a knife for Eirik and when the sun hit its apex his thoughts were interrupted by two guards at his hut. The highlander recognized them as the man and woman he had fought when he first arrived in the village. The woman barked something at him. Not knowing exactly what to do Eirik stood up; the chains binding his ankles and wrists clanged noisily. The sentinel's companion unlocked his cell and motioned for him to come out.

_This is it_, he though solemnly. Eirik got out of the cell and stood before them. Glynis barked something else at him and the highlander stood there confused. She repeated herself this time motioning for him to turn around. Eirik was still confused but complied. _What's going_…his thought was cut short when he felt ice-cold water hit his naked back. He let out a yelp but was ordered to turn around again. This time he was greeted with another bucket of cold water in the face. The guardian put down the now empty second bucket and handed Eirik a rag with which to dry and (as much as possible) clean himself.

The highlander looked up after drying his face. He could not read the guardian's expression but the young woman glared at him. Her eyes, still red from the highlanders dirty fighting technique, only made her look angrier.

Eirik managed a weak smile. "Sorry about that." Glynis flung a semi-clean tunic at him in response. Once he had managed to don the garment Eirik was led out of his hut.

Once outside the highlander noticed that the entire village seemed empty save for two guards outside the village's central hut. It was many times larger than the rest of the structures and Eirik thought that it could probably hold the entire village. He was not altogether wrong and the highlander's escorts led him there to find out first-hand.

When the doors were opened everyone in the hut turned to stare at the highlander. Eirik began to wonder if this was going to be a public execution, and indoors at that. As he was led down the aisle between two sets of packed benches, Eirik tried to find Keeley in the crowd but Glynis pushed him forward. The highlander found himself standing before two elderly men flanking an equally elderly woman. The three were dressed in majestic attire and were sitting behind a high table which forced Eirik to look up at them. Standing next to the table was the same Celt ranger Eirik had seen with Keeley when she visited him the night before.

Sentinel Glynis spoke to Eirik and pointed at a spot on the ground. When the highlander had stepped up to the spot, Glynis and the guardian disappeared into the crowd. Eirik turned back to the trio before him. The woman motioned to one of the guards nearby and spoke. The guard removed the highlander's shackles. Once again the Eirik furrowed his brow.

_This is becoming intolerably confusing_, he thought. When the highlander thought that his situation could not get any odder, the sandy-haired Celt stepped up and began speaking to him in nearly perfect Welsh.

"Albian, this hearing is for the purpose of deciding your fate in our land. I will act as translator for you and the council. Before you are councilman Nevan, council elder Eileen, and council elder Eachann. When you answer their questions you will address them and not me. Answer truthfully. Do you understand?"

Eirik stared astonished at the Celt for a moment before he found his voice. "A-aye, yes. I understand." It had been a long time since he had to speak Welsh and he hoped that he had enough phlegm in his throat to get through the evening.

"Very well." Liam nodded to the council members. The one that Eirik remembered as councilman Nevan spoke and the ranger translated.

"First off, young man, tell us you name."

"My name is Eirik, sir." the young fighter stammered not sure how to address the old man.

"And your family name?"

Eirik paused. "Westlake."

"_Westlake?_ That is a Briton name, is it not?"

Eirik frowned. "Aye, it is."

"You will have to excuse us, Eirik." Lady Eileen chimed in. "You have us at a disadvantage. You have a Briton surname, you were found with highland clothing, however I can tell that you are obviously neither. It would be best if you were to clear up this confusion." Eirik shifted uneasily.

"Answer the councilwoman." Liam ordered evenly. Eirik straightened up and gazed at the elderly woman; his expression marked with a slight sadness.

"My father was from the Cotswolds, however..." Eirik paused for a moment, "my mother was a Norse." When Liam finished translating a murmur ran through the hut. Eileen held up her right hand to silence the crowd. "I guess it's easier to tell from without Albion than within. My heritage, that is." Eirik smiled weakly. "However I gather that your wisdom also gave you insight."

"Ah, my friend, this is interesting indeed! I imagine there is a fascinating story behind this. Would you enlighten us, please?" Her two associates were about to protest, but Eileen held them back.

"I-I'm not sure what there is to tell." Eirik began to get flustered. "My mother was a healer who gave up her gift from Eir after she saved…um, met my father. My father decided the best place for them to live would be in the highland village of Humberton. He knew they would be more…'receptive' to my mother and failing that, she could blend in better. It was there that I was born. I had the physique of my mother's Norse heritage so it was only fitting that I be raised as a Highlander: a heritage I more-or-less embraced."

"Where are your parents now?" councilman Nevan asked.

Eirik closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "They are no longer with us. My father passed away when I was ten. My mother...she didn't seem to have the will to live without him. S-she...she died shortly after." Eileen could tell that he was uncomfortable and decided to spare the young man any more anguish over his family. She cleared her throat and continued.

"So tell us about your profession, Eirik. After your initial training as a fighter you joined the guild of shadows?"

"No. No, I joined the Defenders. I requested stationing in Snowdonia as one of the defenders of Myrddin." Eirik managed a slight smile. "I guess I had an unusual affinity for the cold land. I requested this assignment because preferred to defend what I had come to know as my homeland rather than getting involved in conquering others."

"But you are a mercenary, are you not?" queried Eachann.

"I," Eirik paused, "I was court martialed; I had to leave the Defenders."

"Why was this?"

"One day, when my company was retaking Caer Hurbury from Hibernian forces, we had cleared the keep of defenders to find a young Celt boy cowering in the tower. He was too young to defend himself and had probably been dragged there by friends. Some members of my company began tormenting him - torturing the poor lad. What they were doing was not...honorable." Eirik closed his eyes in memory of the incidents. "Anyway, my commanding officer was not pleased with my actions that followed."

"Which were?"

Eirik coughed. "Let's just say that a couple of my compatriots will never forget that day." The highlander sighed and continued. "I was to die for my treason but my commanding officer, Captain Rhodri, intervened and stopped my execution. I was sent to the Guild of Shadows since they were the only ones who would accept me, and I was trained as Rhodri's hired help." Eirik sneered at the thought of his old master. "I was allowed to live and remain more-or-less free, but I was always in that man's debt and the threat of execution still loomed over my head. All this happened a long time ago."

"And what happened to the young boy?" Eileen finally asked.

"They killed him. I'm sorry." Eirik wiped his eyes before looking up after Liam finished translating. He saw no accusation in Eileen's face, but her companions did not seem so forgiving. Once again he heard the village murmur behind him.

"It is not your fault. What's past is past." Eileen tried to comfort the visibly disturbed fighter. "Let us concentrate on the present now. Tell us why you were in Hibernia's corridors of Darkness Falls and how you came upon a certain young, Celt _girl_." Eirik started to shake with fear.

"Y-you have to believe me that is was not my intention to go there!" He calmed down before continuing. "I went there to collect daemon seals to trade with the imps. I had joined a group of strangers and before I knew it, our group leader had led us there to slaughter any Hibernians remaining once their entrance had closed. I was not prepared for such a fight and before I knew it we encountered a single group of your people." Eirik stared off into the distance for a moment before focusing on Lady Eileen. "I'm still not sure how I managed to survive but I was the only one left standing when the battle was finished. That's when I found Keeley in the imp shrine."

The highlander paused to see if he had to continue. When no one spoke he resigned himself to finishing the story. "Keeley was badly hurt but I could not find a way to help her. When the dungeon changed hands I thought the best thing to do would be to put her where someone who could help her would find her."

"Why did you not kill her?" came the dreaded question from Eachann.

"I know no one will believe me, but I saw no point in killing someone so close to death."

"You thought it would be better to let the daemons finish the job they started? Or perhaps just let her die slowly due to her wounds?"

"No! I told you that I didn't know how to help her. I wasn't going to kill her quickly just to end her misery. She still had a chance."

"Enough, Eachann." Eileen commanded while trying to bring some order to the room. When the crowd had quieted down again the elder turned back to the young fighter. "Tell us about your second encounter, Eirik." The highlander turned from Eachann to answer the lady's question.

"I had joined with a few old friends to go back to the dungeon to farm more seals for the imps. It was near the crossroads that we encountered Keeley and her friends. She was a little out of her league, to say the least." Eirik tried again to find Keeley in the crowd before turning back to Lady Eileen. "I still wonder why she went back there after her last experience, but now that I think about it..." Eirik stopped short of finishing his musings. "My group was going to attack, but we got caught up in the same group of daemons. When I saw that Keeley was in trouble I just acted without thinking. Like I said: she should not have been there." The fighter tried to weather the looks of disbelief from the council elders.

"I just got her out of there as fast as I could," Eirik continued. "Unfortunately we ended up in the Albion keep in your frontier. Probably for the best since once I got her out of there she was safe and closer to her home."

"Albian, do you know what happened to your friends after you abandoned them?" Nevan asked. The question surprised Eirik.

"I imagine they got out alright. They are good people and experienced fighters." The highlander frowned at the question.

"I'm afraid not, Nevan." Eachann answered, turning to his comrade. "We were told that only the female Briton escaped. The rest of your friends died, Eirik." Eirik detected a hint of smugness in the councilman's voice. The news hit the highlander hard. He seemed to waver a bit before lowering his head and whispering a prayer.

"They knew and accepted the risks. That's the life we lead." _Oh, God, Isabella. Please forgive me._

After giving the pseudo-highlander a moment, Eileen continued. "I'm sorry for your loss, Eirik. May I ask why didn't you go back to Albion?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious? Word had already reached my former commanding officer of our first encounter in Darkness falls. I doubt I would be allowed to live after saving a member of the enemy twice," Eirik explained keeping his eyes on the ground for a moment longer.

"And…" Eirik thought hard for a moment, not knowing how to explain his feelings, "for Keeley. There is a bond between us, that I cannot deny. I don't know if this was destiny or an act of God that brought us together, but I do know that I would do _anything_ for her. Even if it meant risking death in coming here. I came here...because I love her."

Liam stopped translating abruptly. Eirik looked at him and the ranger's eyes narrowed at the highlander. When Lady Eileen became impatient and prodded the man for the translation Liam gave a defeated look and reluctantly told the council what Eirik had said.

The intensity of the commotion at the back of the hut surprised everyone including Eirik who turned to see Keeley standing at the end of the isle with Ilisa trying to pull her back to her seat. The celtling managed to shrug off her mistress' attempts to pull her back into the crowd. With tear-filled eyes, the young girl rushed to tightly embraced her lover despite his rank aroma. Eachann tried to call the guards on the celtling but Lady Eileen intervened.

"Do you see?" Keeley spoke, turning to the council. "He's not a threat. Not to us."

"Mind your manners, Keeley. We're all aware of your bias." Eileen grinned as she spoke. "I think we've heard enough. I think the council shall recess."

When the guards came to take Eirik back to his cell, Liam informed him of his situation. "You could be in luck, 'highlander.' You may live through this yet." Eirik just stood there dumbfounded.

"What is your name, sir?" he asked.

"Liam."

"Thank you, Liam. Thank you." And with that, the highlander was led away.

* * *

Keeley waited pensively outside the village's civic hut. Only the council elders and the other members of the village council (trainers, tradesmen and women, and other important members of the village) were present at the final discussion; the rest of the village's citizens had been removed. However as the evening drew late, none of them retired for everyone was curious as to the fate of the invader.

Keeley remained removed from the main crowd as she stood in wait by herself. There were mutters in the gathering behind her as her people gossiped about her relationship with the half-Albion, half-Norse that had come to their land, but Keeley did not hear a word. Her focus remained on the hut which held her lover's fate within. Keeley did not even notice when Liam stood beside her. The ranger looked at his 'sister' for a moment waiting for her to acknowledge his presence until he finally got her attention with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Startled, the celtling jumped. When she saw her friend beside her she relaxed a little and tried to smile at him.

"I didn't know you could speak the Albion tongue, Liam." Keeley said as she leaned against the ranger putting her head on his shoulder.

"I can't." he joked. "We're lucky he knew Welsh. It's not one if his land's more prominent languages." Keeley looked up to her friend.

"He's full of surprises, isn't he?" Keeley chuckled softly. "A Norse-Briton." she mused softly to no one in particular. "He proves it can work, Liam. If his mother could find a home in a foreign land, then so should he." Keeley returned her head to Liam's shoulder and stifled a Yawn.

"You're tired, Keeley. You haven't slept well in days; they could be in there all night."

"No. I'll be fine."

Just then the door opened and Ilisa exited the hut alone. Keeley immediately perked up and her teacher, upon seeing the pair, approached them. Keeley held her breath.

"Well, Keeley. He can stay." the blademistress stayed the girl's enthusiasm quickly. "But there are some conditions which we shall go over later. It looks like you've won. We should release him." Ilisa did not get a chance to finish her last sentence before Keeley bolted for the prison hut.

* * *

Eirik had begun to nod off when his sleep was interrupted by someone calling his name off in the distance. He shook off the fog of drowsiness and heard the yelling get louder until the door to his hut flung open and the happiest woman in Hibernia burst through.

"Keeley! What's going on?!" Eirik could only assume it was good news. The young woman pressed her face up against the bars and tried to give the man a hug, but made way for the guard behind her to unlock his cell. Eirik was elated and embraced his love upon receiving his freedom, but he was still unsure whether or not to celebrate. When Liam entered the hut, Eirik knew he would find out what was happening.

"Congratulations, Eirik, and welcome to Connla." Liam said with a genuine smile. Eirik could hardly believe his ears. He looked down at Keeley who held him tightly and returned his gaze with glee. "But there are some conditions."

"Aye? What conditions?" he asked.

"You are not to arm yourself." Eirik was surprised at first but he quickly realized the reasoning behind the condition. "Second: It would probably be best if you remained here in Connla for a while until you get settled in. There are others but we will go over the minor details later. Let's get you cleaned up first." Liam smiled and gestured to the doorway.

The trio headed out into the village where they were met by quite a few onlookers. Most wore bewildered looks, but a few furrowed their brows in disagreement. However all of them could see the happiness the decision had brought their prodigal daughter. Liam led Eirik and Keeley to a small hut.

"Here you are. It's a small hut, but I'm sure you will find it more comfortable than your previous accommodations." Liam quipped. "You should have a warm bath ready for you plus anything else you may need to get cleaned up. When you're finished we will show you around." Liam looked at the setting sun. "Before it gets too late."

"Thank you again, Liam." Eirik smiled then reached over to give the ranger a rib-cracking hug. Liam let out a groan.

"Don't mention it!" Liam cried breathlessly. Eirik entered his hut and Keeley was about to follow when Liam grabbed her wrist. "I think he can bathe himself, Keeley." the ranger chided. The celtling thrust out her lower lip in a pout but Liam did not relent. Keeley gave a contemptuous sigh and waited outside with her old friend.

* * *

When Eirik emerged from his hut, Keeley beheld an almost new man. Bathed, shaved of nearly two-week's growth, and dressed in clean Celt attire he could almost pass as one of Hibernia's own. Keeley grabbed her man and played with his long, dark hair which was still wet. The celtling nuzzled Eirik's chest and could still smell his unique scent under the fragrant oils he had used in his bathing.

_Almost_, she thought. _Hurray for difference_, she sighed and gave Eirik a long hug. He chuckled at her.

"Hello to you, too." Eirik turned from Keeley to Liam who stood nearby. "Shall we get started?" he asked in Welsh.

Liam and Keeley showed Eirik the entire village and some of the surrounding countryside in order to help him familiarize himself with the area. Throughout the tour, Eirik and Keeley remained physically joined, never releasing hands for more than a moment. In the middle of the tour, Ilisa joined the three and aided in explaining more of the conditions of Eirik's existence in Hibernia.

"You'll have to cut your hair, perhaps even lighten the color a little." Ilisa explained as Liam translated. This requirement displeased Keeley more than it did Eirik. "It will help you blend in. Also, we will be working out a way to break the news to Tir na Nog about your presence. We will try to broach the subject hypothetically at first." Ilisa thought for a moment. "Perhaps your family's own experiences will help us in this matter. But you must realize that we may never be able to reveal you to the rest of Hibernia. Connla is an isolated village where all kinds live in harmony. The same cannot always be said for the rest of our lands."

"I understand." Eirik agreed. "It would be a small price to pay."

"And perhaps most importantly you will need to learn our language. I can't spend all my time with you." Liam added.

By this time darkness had fallen and the four of them returned to Eirik's hut. Beside the door a guard waited and Eirik looked worried. Liam saw the man's concern and answered his question preemptively.

"For your temporary safety, my friend. You understand?"

"Aye." Eirik nodded and turned to a bleary-eyed Keeley. "How do I say 'goodnight' in your language?" he asked Liam

"Oíche mhaith." Liam chuckled.

"Oíche mhaith, love." Eirik tried to pronounce. Keeley giggled at his thick accent and kissed him.

"Slán go fóill, a chiste!" she replied.

Keeley staggered off sleepily and when she was out of earshot, Ilisa approached Eirik and spoke to him. Her words were punctuated with a slashing gesture in front of his groin. The elder blademistress looked the man straight in the eye for several moments then walked off to her own hut. Eirik was puzzled and looked to Liam for a translation.

"What did she say?" he asked. Liam sucked in his breath and thought for a moment.

"Let's just say that until we figure things out, it would be best if you 'kept it under your kilt' for the time being - if you understand my meaning." Eirik blanched and the ranger left him to mull it over. "Now try to get some sleep." he called out with a wry smile. The female guard at Eirik's modest hut chuckled at him.

* * *

_Sleep? How the hell am I supposed to sleep? _Eirik tossed and turned in his small cot. As if the day's excitement was not enough, Ilisa's words had left him in a state of near panic. Eirik continued to consider the consequences of his actions when he heard something at his door. The voices subsided then a figure crept into his hut and through to gloom.

"Keeley?" the fighter called out. Eirik lit the lamp beside his cot and the orange glow illuminated Keeley's smiling face. He blew out a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness you're not an assassin." he whispered. Keeley rushed over and leapt onto his cot straddling the surprised half-norseman. Eirik laughed.

"You couldn't sleep either, eh?" he asked. Keeley bent down to give her lover a long, deep kiss during which she began fumbling with the belt on his trousers. When Eirik realized what she was doing, he grabbed her hands.

"Whoa there, lass. I don't think that would be a good idea." Keeley was a little perturbed but ignored him and continued trying to undress both of them. "Keeley!" he hissed a little louder. "We can't. Ilisa was very clear on the subject." Eirik gestured towards the door.

With the mention of her trainer's name, Keeley stopped. When she realized what was going on, she began grumbling in her own tongue. "What? What did Ilisa say to you?" Keeley let out a growl. "Dammit, she is not my mother and I am not a child!" Eirik tried to hush her before the guard returned, heard the two of them, or reversed her stance on the subject of Keeley's presence in his hut.

Keeley remained straddling him with fists on her hips, and Eirik tried to sooth her by stroking her light hair. He pulled the lamp a little closer and saw the hurt look on her face. He sighed and pulled her down. Turning her around, Eirik snuggled up against her back as the pair lay together on the cot.

"Perhaps there is a way I calm you down and still retain my 'claymore'." he chuckled as he blew out the lamp. Keeley's anger began to melt away as she realized where Eirik's hands were heading.

Outside the hut, the guard heard a giggle from within and sighed to herself.

* * *

Posted September 27, 2019


	10. Chapter 10

Day began to break in Connla. The morning sun was obscured by clouds which had brought with them chilly air off the cool waters of Shannon Estuary. The cold permeated Eirik's hut and Keeley, though still fully clothed, felt the chill. The young woman began to wake and tried to stave off the cold by snuggling closer to Eirik who lay beside her. The young highlander, too, began to stir and instinctively clutched his cot-mate tighter.

Eirik soon shook off the night's sleep entirely and remembered Ilisa's threat, but when he looked down to see Keeley's sleeping form in his arms he decided that he really did not care. Eirik sighed and buried his face in Keeley's hair to inhale the most intoxicating musk he had ever known. She began to moan in response to the disruption of her extra nap.

"Wake up, sleepy-head." he whispered in her ear. Eirik stroked her cheek softly and Keeley tried to reach behind her to smack him but all she could manage was to grab his thigh and give it a weak squeeze. Reluctantly she began to get up.

The salt air from the shore came blowing gently into the hut. Keeley sat up on the cot, took a deep breath, and promptly dashed out of the hut holding her hand over her mouth. Eirik lay on the cot dumbfounded for a moment before he pursued his lover. Eirik exited the hut but found neither Keeley nor anyone else about.

"Keeley?" he called trying not to disturb the whole village. Behind the hut came a retching sound and upon investigation Eirik found Keeley bent over next to a tree; the female guard was holding the girl's hair back while she vomited. "Keeley?! What's wrong?!" Eirik approached the pair but the guard quickly produced a blade with her left hand, all the while holding Keeley's hair back with the right.

"Focáil leat!" the guard yelled, waving her sword menacingly.

"Alright! Alright! Alright!" Eirik threw up his hands in defeat and backed away. "I'm hardly responsible for her condition, you know." The guard glared at him for a moment before turning to Keeley who was wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

"What's wrong? What did that barbarian do to you?" the young woman asked. Keeley felt dazed by the peculiar and sudden onset of nausea she had experience. The celtling blinked and looked up at her friend.

"I-I don't know, Romana." Keeley sniffed the air and tried to repress another wave of nausea. "Gads! Something must have died on the beach."

Romana took a deep breath. "I smell nothing out of the ordinary. Are you sure you're alright?" The guard cocked her brow at Keeley. Suddenly, memories of the plague that had swept through Connla years ago came back to the celtling. Keeley's eyes grew wide. She looked at Eirik who stood a few yards away waiting for her.

"I think I'd better go see Keagan."

* * *

Eirik stood in the center of his hut and listened as the door was secured behind him by a new guard: a giant firbolg who did not seem as jovial (or feminine) as Eirik's previous guard. The wind had begun to pick up even more over the last few minutes which was evidence of a storm brewing over the ocean. Eirik sighed and sat down in an attempt to relax. Not knowing what was going on in his life was beginning to take its toll on his sanity. The young warrior stood up again and began pacing the hut. It was then that he noticed his pack at the foot of the cot.

Eirik opened it and began searching frantically. Most of his belonging, less his weapons and armor, had been returned along with his pack. Eirik flung most of the contents across the room and eventually dumped the rest rather unceremoniously on the cot. Sorting through the pile the young man eventually found the object of his search: a silver ring. Eirik turned the band around in his hand and inspected it closely.

"Thank God." he whispered and clutched the ring tightly in his fist.

* * *

Liam the ranger entered the healer's home to find its owner, Keagan, feeling Keeley's neck. Her friend, Romana, sat beside the celtling holding her hand.

"Ah, Liam." The healer smiled. "Trying to catch a glimpse of my patients again?"

The ranger frowned in confusion. "What's wrong?" he asked turning to Keeley.

"I don't know." Romana answered for her. "She ran out of his hut this morning and..." Keeley poked her friend and glared at her. Liam's eyes went wide.

"You were with him last night?!" he asked sounding exasperated.

"Please don't tell Ilisa, Liam! Please!" Keeley pleaded.

"Your teacher has a way of finding things out, Keeley." Liam sighed realizing his protests too late and unproductive. "But I won't tell her, be assured. Now what happened?"

"I was sick. I-I thought it might be...you know." the celtling's voice trailed off.

"I'm glad you're both here, actually," Keagan interrupted returning to the trio from his table. "No, my dear, it's not the plague," the healer turned to Liam, "Keeley is pregnant."

* * *

The highlander's thoughts were interrupted by voices at his hut's entrance. When Liam walked in, Eirik leapt to his feet in anticipation.

"Where's Keeley? What's wrong with her? Why have I been locked in here?" Eirik's barrage of questions in his native tongue left the ranger at a loss before Eirik realized his mistake and repeated them in Welsh.

"Hold on, Eirik. Let me explain." Liam paused for a moment. "Actually, that would take too long. Let me summarize: Keeley is with child." Liam tried to stifle a grin upon seeing the highlander's expression.

"Whoa." was the only response Eirik could manage. Liam quirked his brow.

"Yes. It looks like Ilisa's warning came a little too late, _daddy_."

Eirik sat down and considered his new situation. He looked up at the ranger suddenly. "How is she? Is there anything wrong?"

"No, no. Just a touch of 'the sickness.' It's perfectly normal. She and, as far as we know, her - um, your - child are fine."

"Well, when can I see her?"

Liam sighed before answering. "Not just now. Things are progressing a little faster than we expected, Eirik." Liam placed a comforting hand on the highlander's shoulder then turned to leave. "You can wait here. I'll come retrieve you soon." The door closed behind the ranger but the guard did not lock it.

* * *

Ilisa strode menacingly through the village towards Keeley's hut without taking notice of some of the frightened glances or the people she nearly walked over. At nearly six feet, the Celt Bladesong was an impressive and imposing figure: a fact not lost on Ilisa and a fact that she wished had not been lost on the foreigner who had invaded her homeland.

Ilisa burst through the door without even a courtesy knock to find Keeley and her friend together. The two of them jumped and Romana abruptly stopped talking. The blademistress narrowed her eyes at Keeley's hutmate before turning to her pupil. Keeley sat on her bed with her arms folded over her stomach and her eyes darting to the floor.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air before the elder blademistress spoke. "I would speak with you alone, Keeley." Ilisa did her best to control her anger. Keeley nervously looked to her friend beside her.

"Please don't be angry with her, mis…" Romana began.

"And you! You were supposed to be guarding his hut!" Ilisa spat angrily. The young guardian shrunk back. "Sentinel Glynis will be informed of your actions. Now leave us." The elder blademistress watched as Romana gave Keeley's hand a quick squeeze and slipped out the door. Ilisa turned her attention back to Keeley who now stood before her teacher.

"You couldn't wait, could you?" Ilisa asked softly.

"I love him, mistress." Keeley's tone was defiant but her lip trembled slightly.

Ilisa grinned despite her anger. "That's your excuse for everything, Keeley." The Celtling chuckled a bit but Ilisa's expression quelled her mirth. "Keeley, this is serious. You are carrying his child."

"And what's wrong with that? It's not like he has brought the plague to the village."

"And he's very lucky for that! One word from Keagan and I would have been the first to put his hut to the torch with him locked in it." Keeley fought back the anger that welled up after her teacher's threat. Seeing her hurt expression, Ilisa calmed down. "I'm sorry, child. When I had heard you were with the healer I feared the worst. But we have a different problem now. We can't have this child entering the world as a páiste ceo." Keeley held her hands over her belly and stared at the floor.

"I know." the celtling said almost inaudibly. Ilisa gave her a comforting squeeze.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little scared." Keeley rested her head on her teacher's shoulder. "I need to tell Eirik. I need him with me right now, Ilisa."

* * *

Liam approached the guardian on the shore and spoke. The tall firbolg turned to the ranger then pointed to Eirik who was sitting on a large boulder several yards away and staring off into the horizon. Liam watched the man for a few moments. The highlander did not move but continued to stare off over the water as the waves crashed loudly on the shore and around his rocky perch. The guardian began to follow Liam down to the water as the ranger approached the highlander, but was held back with a wave from the celt.

When Eirik did not respond to the ranger's presence, Liam thought hard before addressing him. "Nice day, no?" the ranger asked trying to be heard over the gusting wind. Liam immediately chided himself for such a poor greeting.

"It's alright, I guess." Eirik's response was devoid of emotion. Liam came up beside the man and watched the water with him. The clouds were beginning to darken further and Liam could see the rain approach the village. The ranger looked at the highlander and noticed he was fidgeting with a ring.

"Look, Eirik. I'm sorry I had to leave you in such a hurry. There were -"

"I never thought my life would turn out quite this way," Eirik interjected still staring at the water.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed. That's all." The young man turned his attention from the water for the first time. Liam put on the kindest expression he could in an attempt to comfort his new friend. Eirik stared silently at the ranger for a moment as a light sprinkle began to blow in from the ocean. "Some of my friends are dead, Liam. The rest I'll never get to see again. I'm stranded in a land whose customs and language I know nothing of. I'm a stranger in a strange land, and now I'm going to be a father. That is if I live through the night." Eirik turned from his friend then climbed off the boulder. Motioning to the ocean he spoke again, "I feel like...I feel like I've been tossed out to sea and I'm drowning." The waves became louder as the rain increased from a mist to a drizzle.

"Sounds like you need something to cling to, Eirik. A 'rock' of some sort, aye?"

Eirik cracked a weak smile. "Aye."

"Keeley. Keeley is your rock, brother." Liam paused for a moment to think. "Eirik, you haven't been dropped in the ocean. For us here in Hibernia life is akin to a river. From your story of how you came to be here I gather that you have simply been letting this river take you where it likes. You have been through some rough moments in your life before so why the sudden desire to fight it? Ag snámh in aghaidh easa?" The highlander barely suppressed the smile in response to the ranger using his own analogy against him.

"And where does this river lead, Liam?"

"That I can't tell you. Only fate knows that. But may I make a suggestion? Stop fighting it and see where it takes the two of you. You won't be alone. This is a journey for both you and Keeley."

Eirik thought about his mother's own journey. _And what if I lose Keeley?_ he thought. _Will I suffer the same fate? _The highlander squeezed the ring in his hand until it hurt.

"Eirik?" came a small voice. Liam turned around to see Keeley looking nervously at the two men. Pushing her wind-blown hair from her face, Keeley asked Liam a question. The ranger did not answer but instead turned to Eirik.

"I think you had better talk to her." Liam began walking back towards the village.

"What? But I -"

"You two have been speaking the same language since you met. She'll understand you." With the guardian in tow, the ranger left Eirik and Keeley alone on the beach.

Nervously, Eirik turned to the woman who had captured his heart. The increasing rain began to soak Keeley's clothes and hair but the celtling remained standing a few feet away staring back at the father of her child. She wondered if Liam had told him.

"A páiste?" the highlander asked. Keeley nodded slowly, unsure of how he felt about their new situation. Finally Eirik held out his hand for her and Keeley rushed into his arms and buried her face in his warm chest. Eirik cradled her head close and breathed a relieved sigh. The celtling felt somewhat relieved that her lover had not rejected her, but she remained nervous. Eirik's mind was whirling in the fear and uncertainty of his new life - and the painful memories of his previous life - when he felt Keeley moan into his chest. It was then that Eirik made his decision. Releasing his lady, Eirik held Keeley at arm's length for a moment before brushing her wet hair from her face.

"Keeley?" was all he asked as he opened his hand and showed her the ring. The celtling's eyes grew wide. The silvery ring gave off a blue glow for an instant as Keeley watched it shrink ever so slightly. "Take it." Eirik said with a grin.

Confused, Keeley reached for the ring hesitantly. The celtling held the ring gingerly between her fingers and marveled at it for many moments. Keeley did not know what the symbols carved into the untarnished material meant, but she recognized that they were Norse in origin. Inside the ring she noticed an inscription in the Nordic language.

"What does it say?" Keeley tried in vain to ask. When she finally tore her gaze from the ring she saw Eirik kneeling in front of her. "What are you doing?" Eirik only smiled back in response to her words. Taking both the ring and Keeley's left hand, Eirik slipped the ring on his love's finger. The celtling forgot about the rain for a moment and stared at her husband-to-be. Looking back at the ring on her finger, Keeley fell to her knees in front her Eirik and embraced him. "Pósfaidh mé tú!" she whispered in his ear.

* * *

"She's too young, Eileen." Ilisa stood next to the village elder and watched her student and the highlander spar playfully in the field. Eileen smiled and uttered an amused chuckle. News of Keeley's condition and her lover's proposal had spread quickly throughout the village and had been met with near universal approval. Eileen returned her attention to the couple in question. Although still not allowed to arm himself, Eirik was engaged in a mock battle with his love; both of them were using wooden swords. Ilisa opposed the idea vehemently, but Keeley was not to be denied.

As per Ilisa's recommendations, Eirik had his hair cut quite short and allowed a traveling dye merchant to work her herbal magic on his new short tresses (Liam slipped the woman an extra gold to ensure "no questions asked."). The young man's mixed heritage was almost completely hidden by the light-brown hair color.

"You know what happens to most of our students when they wed?" Ilisa asked rhetorically. "She'll never finish her training. I just know it."

"Don't worry about Keeley, Ilisa." Eileen soothed. "You said yourself that there is little more you can teach her."

Ilisa sighed. "She has an unusual gift - I will grant you that - but it needs to be refined through her studies."

"Well her young man seems willing to help her there." Eileen quipped.

Ilisa frowned and watched as Keeley performed a fluid combination of moves to evade her betrothed's latest offensive. The young blademistress's swords moved in perfect harmony with the rest of her body as the two of them not so much as fought against each other, but danced together. Ilisa was stunned when Eirik performed a vicious attack in a style she had never seen before, but her jaw nearly dropped when Keeley instinctively countered it. Eileen noticed the veteran blademistress's astonishment.

"Aye, she is good, Ilisa, as is our new friend. Uncommonly good for one of his age." Eileen turned to her friend and smiled. Ilisa simply stared at the two combatants.

"What was that? And where did she learn...?" Ilisa turned to Eileen, but the druid had already disappeared.

"Hail, Ilisa!" came a voice behind her. Ilisa turned to see Liam. "Are they at it again?" the ranger queried pointing to Eirik and Keeley.

"Aye. Again." Ilisa sighed. The frustration in her voice worried the ranger.

"Give it time, m'lady. I know you have your doubts but you should trust Eirik," Liam paused to let his words sink in, "and Keeley."

"You're much less cynical than I." Ilisa smiled at the ranger. The woman turned and walked a little further away from Keeley and her sparring partner to a nearby tree and motioned to Liam to follow. "And how about you, Liam? How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?" The sandy-haired Celt frowned.

"Oh come now, Liam." Ilisa cracked a warm smile. "I know how long you and Keeley have been friends and I also how deep your feelings for her run." The ranger leaned up against the tree alongside Ilisa and watched Keeley for a moment before responding.

"I've never seen her so happy, Ilisa. It seemed that all these years that I had known her there had been something missing from her life and now this man has filled the void. Keeley is happy and that's all that matters to me." Liam sighed. "I'm just glad I could be instrumental in bringing them together even in some small way."

"Oh so you're the one I should thank?" Ilisa replied with mock anger. Liam chuckled.

"I'm fine, Ilisa. Really, I am."

"As you wish." The older woman sat down at the base of the tree with the ranger. "You don't think he's too old?" she asked looking somber.

"He's barely older than I." Liam winked at Ilisa before giving her a reassuring hug. The elder blademistress responded by ruffling the man's hair and laughing in a way she had not done so in a long time. Keeley stopped to look at the pair and smiled before continuing with her battle.

* * *

Posted October 4th, 2019


	11. Chapter 11

"Run, Keeley!" Eirik yelled. The pair sprinted over the hill and across the field until they nearly ran out of breath. Finally tumbling to a stop in a patch of thick grass they watched behind them carefully. Over the hill a solitary spraggon made a beeline for their hiding spot. "Look out, he's found us!" Keeley laughed at him hysterically and Eirik immediately joined in.

When the tiny, brown creature caught up with them, Eirik stood up to avoid its meager attacks. With each swipe of its claws, the spraggon barked angrily at Eirik who managed to avoid or parry each attack.

"I don't think he liked you kicking him." Keeley was now laughing so hard she could barely breathe and her face was turning red. Eirik continued his dance with the furious spraggon and just to be sure the fun continued he gave it a playful thump on the head with one of his swords. "Stop it! I'm going to wet myself!" the celtling managed in between fits of laughter. When she started to hiccup uncontrollably Eirik decided the game was over.

After a few more moments the spraggon realized it was never going to win and ceased its aggression. With one last bark the little fellow turned and ran off, leaving Eirik to tend to his mistress. Keeley sat up and waited for her hiccups to pass and Eirik lay down beside her with his head in her lap.

"We should do that again." Keeley tried to ignore her betrothed. Her hiccups still jostling Eirik's head, Keeley tried holding her breath. "Yes. Maybe a bigger one next time. One that can put up a real fight!" Eirik raked the air with his hands like a pair of claws and snarled. Keeley burst into laughter again aggravating her condition.

"Stop that! I _will _pee on you if you don't stop!" Keeley thumped her lover lightly on the head to reinforce her point. Eirik smiled and got up to cradle his love from behind in hopes of expediting her recovery. As Keeley's hiccups subsided, Eirik surveyed the countryside. Since the time of his release, the former Albian had gotten to see a great deal more of Keeley's homeland and its beauty never ceased to amaze him.

"Where are we now?" Eirik asked. Keeley looked around for a minute and hummed.

"North of Ardagh. Just a little."

"Ah." Eirik continued to stare at the fields bordering patches of thin woods. "God, this place is wonderful."

"Didn't you have anything like it back home?" Keeley immediately regretted bringing up her love's homeland. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"It's alright, mhuirnín." Eirik kissed the back of her heard. "No. Well, actually the Salisbury Plains are a little like this, but you wouldn't go there to relax, that is for sure."

"Why is that?"

"Oh...giants, wild pigs the size of giants, nymphs with giant tempers. You know: the usual fair." Keeley turned around. Her shocked expression caused Eirik to grin broadly.

"No!" Keeley said in shocked disbelief. "You're teasing me again, aren't you?" Eirik tried to keep a straight face.

"No! Really! I swear I'm not making this up. Don't you have giants here?"

"None that I have met," the celtling said turning around to lean back against Eirik's chest. Keeley sighed and grabbed her love's arms to wrap them tightly around her chest. The morning's clouds began to break up revealing the noon-day sun which brought with it an unusually warm late spring afternoon. Keeley groaned as she got up.

"Shall we continue?" the lady blademistress asked. Eirik sat on the ground below her for a few moments then winked.

"Aye. Let's go."

The day grew hotter as Keeley and Eirik traveled north towards Tir na Nog. By late day both were sweaty and tired. Eirik began to wonder when Keeley was planning on stopping for a break. Suddenly, the celtling gasped. Forgetting the heat, Eirik leapt in front of her and grabbed his swords. Keeley fought back another fit of laughter.

"You plan on defending your lady with wooden swords?" she asked. Eirik frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Keeley turned him around and pointed to the lake.

"I'm hot, and I wanna swim, silly." Eirik sheathed his useless weapon and considered his lover.

"Would you please stop doing that? You're going to give me a complex. Remember that time you shrieked when you saw that pixie and I thought it was heading straight for us?" the fighter scolded. Keeley giggled at the memory.

"Mmmmm...she was cute, wasn't she? Now c'mon. Into the water!"

"Well...I'm not much of a swimmer actually," Eirik replied sheepishly. The celtling frowned then thought a moment. Facing her betrothed, Keeley slowly walked backwards towards the lake, a mischievous smile curled her lips.

"I think I can make one of ye." Eirik was about to disagree but was silenced as Keeley began undressing. The celtling kicked off her boots then seductively unlaced her blouse. Panicking, Eirik looked around for any hostile beasts, or worse: patrolling sentinels. When he turned around he found Keeley at the water's edge. The young woman hooked her thumbs into the waistline of leggings and began to shimmy her hips. Eirik's breathing became ragged as her bare pubis came into view. The celtling stepped into the shallow water and let her blouse fall open revealing the faintest hint of a bulge in her tummy.

"Coming?" the nearly naked Celt asked. Keeley backed further into the water as Eirik approached.

"You're hankerin' for a spankerin', young lady." Eirik threatened in his native tongue. Keeley simply smiled at him and let her blouse fall off completely. Grabbing it before it hit the water, the celtling held it up to her chest and let it slide across her breasts. Eirik narrowed his eyes at her and she tossed the blouse at him. The young man caught the garment and dropped it next to the rest of her clothes then began frantically disrobing. Keeley laughed as her man fell over trying to take off his leggings. Finally free of his clothes Eirik stood on the shore.

Keeley stood in the water up to her waist and eyed her love's naked form for a moment. He was tall, but not a giant like the firbolgs she had known. She always felt he was just the right height for snuggling in his chest. Keeley then examined his manhood which had already begun to grow under the influence of her striptease. The celtling's own breathing grew ragged and she motioned for him with one finger. Eirik waded slowly into the water.

"Ack! Cold!" The naked Albian shivered slightly. Keeley gave a look of mock concern.

"Mmmmm...not _too _cold, I hope." she said reaching for his 'claymore' as he like to put it. The pair embraced and fell backwards into deeper water. "Nope, not too cold at all." Keeley moaned as she pulled his head down for a deep kiss. Eirik began to repay her attentions and his hands wandered down her back to her buttocks to give them a strong squeeze. Keeley nearly yelped as his fingers teased the crevice between her cheeks. The young Celt released her love's cock and let him pull her hips into his. Keeley ground her mound into Eirik's thigh for several moments as they kissed before speaking.

"Mmmph! Shore!" she spoke between muffled moans into her lover's mouth. The strong man released his prize and Keeley immediately splashed to shore towing him by the hand. Once out of the water, Keeley released her love and made a dash for the trees. Eirik quickly followed and found the celtling leaning up against the moss-covered trunk of a large oak. Stopping a few yards away, the young man stood and marveled at Keeley's beauty. Her wet, blond hair was pushed back from her face and her normally pink lips were turning a deep red. Eirik approached as Keeley grabbed a low branch with one hand and thrust out her chest slightly. Her breathing was becoming almost labored and her mouth hung open slightly.

"Is dócha nach bhfuil seans ar bith ann. " Eirik quipped as he pulled her left knee up to his hip. Keeley shivered slightly as her love ran his hand up her outer thigh and over her navel. For the next several minutes, Eirik felt an intensity emanating from Keeley that he had never before experienced. It had been several weeks since they had an opportunity to spend some time alone and this trip to Tir na Nog had been the perfect opportunity. Keeley's passions were animalistic but eventually the pair collapsed in a heap at the base of the tree.

"What brought that on?" Eirik asked as he rolled the two of them onto a soft patch of grass. The celtling did not hear him and simply cradled herself on his chest letting her senses slowly return. Eirik brushed the green moss stains off Keeley's back with a chuckle. When she finally returned to the real world, Keeley simply smiled and heaved a deep sigh.

"I needed that," she said turning her head to the other side to look her love in the eye.

"I was happy to give it to you." The pair laughed together and rested.

* * *

"Eirik?" the young woman asked as she played with her ring.

"Mmmm?"

"I've always wanted to ask you this and now you seem to know enough of our languge..." Keeley paused for a moment, not sure if she should continue.

"What is it?" Still naked, Eirik look up at his wife-to-be whom was staring at the ring he had given her. Keeley looked nervous.

"What does this say here?" The celtling pointed to the inscription on the inside of the ring. Eirik sat up and hugged her close.

"Well, to be honest, I don't know."

"You don't know?" Keeley sounded astonished.

"No. I've never found anyone who could translate it for me. It's a very old, archaic Norse language." Eirik took the ring for a moment and inspected it.

"Where did you get it?" Eirik did not respond immediately to Keeley's question and became distant. "I'm sorry, Eirik. Shite! I really..."

"No, Keeley, it's alright, honestly. I think you should know." Eirik sighed. "My mother gave it to me." Keeley stroked the back of her love's head.

"What happened to her?" Eirik smiled weakly in response to the foreseen question and stared at the ground for a moment.

"This was a month to the day after my father had died from his illness. My mother had been grief-stricken the entire time. I was ten summers old and didn't know what do to. That night she came into my room just before I fell asleep and kissed me. Then she just slipped the ring onto my finger and left." Eirik's tears betrayed the sadness behind his stoic demeanor and Keeley's eyes began to well up in sympathy.

"The next morning some of our friends came to wake me up to tell me my mother's body had been found in the Sauvage forest. She had been killed by soldiers of Midgard. They probably didn't even know she was one of their own." Eirik looked up at Keeley finally.

"Eirik, I'm so sorry." Keeley tried to comfort her love and hugged him close. Eirik sighed into her naked bosom. "Was she trying to go home?"

"No. She wanted to die. My mother didn't want to live without my father. He was the whole world to her. The guards remember her walking blindly out into the forest. They said they tried to warn her but she didn't seem to hear them." Keeley had no words for Eirik and just held him close and stroked his hair. Eirik tried to break away.

"It's alright, Keeley."

"No it isn't, Eirik. It's a terrible thing to happen. But I'm here to share your grief, aye?" Eirik smiled at his love which lifted Keeley's spirits slightly.

"Aye. Thank you." The two embraced for a long time before speaking.

"So why did she give you her ring?" Keeley finally asked. "Was it significant to her in some way?

"I'm not sure why she gave it to me, but yes, it was very significant to her. She used to tell me the story of how the ring had been passed from mother to daughter for more generations than anyone could remember. But my mother had no daughter." Eirik stopped telling his story for a moment to reflect on the statement. "Only me." The young man wiped his eyes. "When I learned more about the Norse gods I began to wonder if Eir had punished my mother in this way for leaving her order."

Eirik faced Keeley and tried to smile. The celtling did her best to console her love. "So the line was broken?" she asked. Eirik brightened up a little.

"But now I give you the ring. Perhaps we can begin a new tradition." Keeley gave Eirik a kiss. "I have a feeling she would have loved you as a daughter." Keeley blushed and tears began to leak from her eyes again.

"Keeley?"

"Yes?"

"May I ask you about your parents?" Keeley wiped her eyes and smiled.

"I suppose it's only fair." she chuckled lightly. "There was a plague in the land many years ago. Not many people survived. They died when the sickness swept across Connla." Eirik was stunned by his love's bluntness.

"I-I don't know what to say to that. What do you remember?"

"Images mostly. I was only two. They were a very happy couple…and young. Ilisa told me that my mother was not yet seventeen seasons when I was born. She was the daughter of a fisherman and my father was actually from Caille, or so they tell me."

"What do you mean?" Eirik queried. Keeley stopped stroking his hair and let her hand fall from his head to his chest.

"Well...the village was wiped out almost entirely by the plaque. Very few people remained. I was one of them. Not many people remember much about my father, or my mother for that matter. Connla used to be a very transient village."

"I'm sorry." Keeley smiled genuinely at Eirik.

"It's fine, Eirik. I'm glad I can finally tell you, though. There is no need to dwell on the past. What I want is right here in the present, anyway," she said giving him a squeeze. Eirik chuckled at her and pulled her on top of him for a long hug. "I love you, Eirik!"

"I know." he replied.

"Can I ask you something else?" the celtling asked sitting up on top of her love.

"You're going to use up your questions fast if you keep this up!" he laughed. Keeley frowned at him.

"Hey! I've barely been able to ask you anything since we met, and you haven't been able to answer me anything either!" she scolded mockingly. "I don't care what the answer is; I just want to know."

"Ask away, mhuirnín." Eirik ran his hands down her shoulders and held Keeley's hands as she looked down at him. The celtling bit her lip nervously.

"Am I your first?"

* * *

"That man is up to something, mark my words."

"Aye, sir." replied Rhodri's lieutenant. Captain Rhodri climbed the steps of Snowdonia Fortress followed closely by a second man shrouded in a dark cloak.

"This plan of his makes very little sense. It will eat up resources and men needed to defend the borderlands. And the fact that J'nar has asked _me _to be in charge reeks of some treachery."

"But did the council not decide that, captain?" Rhodri sneered before answering.

"J'nar has a hold on them. I have no proof, but I am sure of that. Never trust a mage; especially one from the Guild of Shadows. In fact: never trust _anyone _from the Guild of Shadows. Do you understand? They have only their self interest in their thoughts and plans."

"Aye, sir. What shall we do now?"

"We have no choice." Rhodri replied. "I cannot go against the council without proof of treason. We must follow their orders and begin the buildup."

"Aye, sir." At the door to his barracks, Rhodri turned around and spoke in hushed tones to man.

"Speak nothing of this. You understand? You're the only one I trust, Cresil. Keep your eyes open at all times. Don't fail me."

"As you wish, sir." replied the lieutenant. Once Rhodri closed the door, Cresil quickly disappeared down the steps and into the night.

* * *

"I'm nervous. Very, very nervous."

"You'll do fine." Liam whispered to Eirik. The pair stood next to a fountain that radiated a soft light that cast a beautiful golden glow throughout Druid's Grove. "All you have to do is be here."

"I'm just worried that someone is going to notice me for what I am!" Eirik hissed back. "Oh God, why did she have to have the wedding in Tir na Nog?"

"Recognize you as what? A nervous groom?" Liam grinned. "Anyway trust me. You are _not _going to be the focus of attention here." Eirik gave a contemptuous huff and straightened up. Despite his nervousness he still managed to notice the grand beauty of Hibernia's capital city. So intrigued by the city's buildings and markets that Eirik had almost forgotten why he was there, and when the time came Liam had to pry the incognito fighter away from a puppet bard and her entourage.

Eirik looked around the grove. It was late evening and the sun had just set. Several bards were playing music as guests sat themselves. Eirik recognized most as being from the village, but there were quite a few folk stumbling in, obviously looking for a celebration with which to begin their night's festivities. In front of Eirik and Liam stood Lady Eileen who had insisted on performing the wedding: a ceremony that Eirik did not fully understand in his own land let alone Hibernia.

"Tell me again what I do when Keeley arrives." Eirik whispered to Liam.

"You shut up and try to look handsome for a change," Liam laughed. Eirik thought about the translation for a moment then jabbed the ranger in the ribs. Liam responded with a smack to the back of Eirik's head and the pair began a small scuffle. Eileen had to restrain the two before Keeley arrived.

The bards suddenly stopped their music and a single bard took up a new song on her lute. Eirik straightened up when he saw Keeley enter the grove and walk slowly towards them. The Albian could hardly believe his eyes. Keeley wore a sheer white dress that was only draped over her body and when she passed before a torch Eirik could see the outline of her naked body beneath. Liam grinned and leaned over to Eirik.

"You lucky little scamp." he said. Eileen hushed the ranger before Keeley could hear any more. Eirik just stared open-mouthed.

"She's beautiful," was the only thought in his head.

With the couple together, Eileen bound their hands together with a leafy vine and began the ceremony. Eirik remembered very little and, before he knew it, the two of them were wed on the summer solstice and the celebration had begun.

* * *

"They're drunk and having fun. Even if they knew who you were I don't think they would care," Keeley laughed. Eirik had become nervous throughout the night. Some of the female patrons even insisted on dancing with him and Keeley would not let her husband refuse. Eirk could only oblige a large, furry dancing companion.

"Let's not test your theory, shall we?" Eirik replied.

By early morning the reception had moved to a large tavern on the edge of the city and Eirik was confronted on all sides by elves, lurikeen, filbolgs, as well as celts. Some of the guest were armed which added to Eirik's discomfort.

"How much longer are we staying?" Eirik asked. Keeley had grown tired herself, but sidled up to her husband and began to sway.

"Mmmmm…not long. Just give me one more dance." Eirik could tell his bride was not going to be denied and accepted his fate. The dance was a fast-paced, happy jig and Eirik had trouble keeping up, but in the end he found himself having more fun than he could remember. Once the dance was finished and the crowd finished its drunken applause, the bride and groom snuck out of the tavern to their inn. With a wink the innkeeper showed the couple to their room and left. Eirik grabbed his wife from behind and gave her a squeeze.

"I'm going to wash up, Keeley. Are you going to wait for me?" Eirik winked at his bride.

"I'll be right here, my sweet." As he disengaged, the celtling tugged on his sleeve for a quick kiss. When Eirik returned Keeley was not in the room. Looking around, Eirik found a balcony beyond some curtains and stared up at the moon. However his celestial observations was interrupted by a light snore. Looking down, Eirik saw his sleeping bride curled up in a very large cushioned chair at the end of the balcony.

"Poor girl." He whispered. Eirik gathered a light blanket. Soon the highlander and the celt were curled up together on the chair and sleeping peacefully under the stars.

* * *

Posted October 11th, 2019


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you sure you want to head back tomorrow?" Keeley looked up from her writing. Eirik, her husband, stood in the doorway. Their room at the small inn at Caille had been their home for the last three weeks but had been decorated by the couple as though it was meant to be permanent. Keeley had replaced the curtains over the windows with ones she had found at the local market and Eirik had placed the skins of two large beasts on the floor and the bed to stave off the cold of the autumn. The innkeeper had protested loudly when Keeley's husband wanted to mount the heads on the wall, but Eirik placated his anger by promising to donate them when they left.

Keeley stared in silence at her husband for a moment. Against her initial wishes Eirik had grown a beard to keep his face warm against the cold weather, but the young woman had quickly grown accustomed to prickly feeling on her lips and cheek and even enjoyed the scratchy growth rubbing her thighs. Keeley smiled at the memory then turned back to her quill and paper to finish her thoughts.

"Aye, I would like our child to be born in my home. Besides, our business here is finished and I think we can make it back to Connla safely before any winter storms." Keeley finished her work and closed the book. Tucking the skillfully bound tome in her pack, the Celt woman tried to stand up. Seeing her struggle, Eirik rushed to his wife's aid. Keeley smiled up at him as he guided her to the bed. The oil lamps on the bed stands illuminated a sexy silhouette of her bloated form through her thin nightgown.

At nearly full term, Keeley's pregnancy made even the most mundane tasks difficult. She had always enjoyed her journal but lately she could not sit at her desk for more than a short while before the aches began. Keeley lay on her back in the large bed and Eirik tried to cover her with the warm blankets and furs before she stopped him.

"I'm too warm," she protested. Eirik smiled and snuggled up beside her. Lifting her gown to expose her body, the young man ran his hands over her firm belly then down over her legs to give his wife her nightly massage. Eirik worked on Keeley's feet before moving up to her calves and thighs. The Celt moaned and closed her eyes. She had always loved the selfless attention her husband would show her constantly due to her pregnancy, however this time she suspected he had ulterior motives.

As hard as it was for Keeley to believe him, Eirik never failed to make her feel sexy. Her husband's libido seemed to thrive off her pregnancy and in fact both of their passions had grown over the last few months. However tonight Keeley felt too tired and sore to perform her wifely duties. _I don't want to hurt his feelings,_ she thought to herself. Keeley opened her eyes to see her love's concentration fixed on her rounded tummy. _Mmmm...perhaps not._

The young woman pulled her husband up the bed for a long, luxurious kiss then, with a twinkle in her eye, shuffled down the bed. As best she could, Keeley began a massage of her own. Her dexterous fingers worked their way up Eirik's leg to his groin. Their Keeley found that her original assumptions as to her husband's intentions to be incorrect, however her actions quickly brought life to the previously dormant area. Keeley grinned at her mistake. _Oh how I LOVE this man. Oh well. No sense in letting this go to waste._

"Come here, _papa!_"

* * *

"Keeley?"

"Mmmm?" the Celt woman answered.

"I was thinking about names for our child. I was thinking 'Peter' would be a grand name. Or, if by some chance it is a girl: 'Avie.' It's getting awful close. We don't want our child born without a name, do we?" Eirik grinned. By this time Keeley had propped herself up on her elbows and was giving her husband a queer look. The two stared at each other for a moment before Keeley's giggling broke the silence. Seeing the hurt look on Eirik's face, she quickly stopped.

"Oh. You were serious." Eirik began to panic. His confusion indicated to Keeley that she needed to explain. "I'm sorry, dear. I thought you knew. We don't name a newborn child..."

"What?!" Eirik was even more confused. Thoughts of pagan ritual infanticide crept into his head and his confusion turned to panic.

"Wait, let me finish." Keeley laid back down and pulled her husband closer to feel the entire length of his naked body against hers. "We don't name a newborn child. It's..." Keeley paused trying to search for a simple way to explain, "it's more the child tells you their name." Eirik still looked confused. Keeley sighed. "It's probably hard for you to understand because you haven't been so close to her all these months. When she's born you'll understand; it will be like magic to you...and to me." Keeley nuzzled Eirik's bristly face and brought his arm to the base of her swollen belly to cradle their unborn child. Eirik stroked the underside of his wife's belly and felt a small pang of sadness. But a realization suddenly hit him.

"What do you mean 'she'?" he asked, sitting up abruptly. Keeley, her eye's closed, grinned.

"Did I say 'she'?"

"What do you mean 'she'?" he asked again. Keeley opened her eyes and bit her lower lip.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. Yes, sweetheart: we're going to have a daughter." Eirik was dumbfounded.

"How...how long have you known?"

"A couple months now. You're not mad are you?" Keeley looked worried.

"No. No, of course not." Eirik nearly laughed. The joy on his face was immeasurable. "How do you know?" The young Celt woman smiled and looked thoughtful.

"Oh, different mothers-to-be find out in different ways. Me? I'm certain we're having a girl because I saw her in a dream." Keeley eyes seemed to focus beyond the ceiling. "She was beautiful, Eirik. And strong. But most important she was full of love." Eirik stared at his wife who seemed to be in a trance as she continued to describe their daughter while rubbing her own belly absentmindedly. Keeley suddenly broke from her reverie and looked at Eirik to gage his reaction. The father of her child was staring intently at her belly, his face a mixture of concentration and confusion. "What is it?"

"What? Oh. It's...it's nothing." Eirik snapped out of his own trance and curled back up against his wife. "My God." he thought out loud. "You know so much. Is there anything else I'm missing out on?"

"Oh just the agonizing pain of childbirth. Would you like a taste of that, too?" Keeley laughed. Eirik could not help but groan at falling into her trap.

The next morning the pair departed from Caille. Eirik insisted on purchasing a horse and cart so his wife could travel in some semblance of comfort and the inn-keeper was only too happy to sell them what they desired. The air was cold that morning but the warming sun had begun to creep over the hills.

"Up ye go, lass." Eirik helped his pregnant wife into the cart then finished loading the rest of their supplies into the back.

"Are ye sure ye won't be needin' anything else?" the innkeeper asked.

"No, that should be all." Eirik climbed onto the cart next to his wife. The innkeeper finished checking their horse's bindings.

"Well, safe travels to ye, and blessings to the baby."

"Fare thee well, sir!" Keeley called out as they departed. The innkeeper watched for several minutes until the cart had disappeared down the road then turned around in time to see several arrows flying towards him.

* * *

"It has begun, my lord." J'nar turned to the speaker.

"Excellent. How far ahead are they?"

"About half a day." Cresil replied.

"We shall leave at once. You know the plan?"

"Aye, m'lord." J'nar smiled at his subordinate and turned back to the window.

"This will be a great day indeed, Cresil. You don't know how long I've waited to be rid of that man. And to think he will be the instrument of his own destruction." The ancient avalonian began to cackle. The infiltrator simply stood quietly.

* * *

"What's that?" Keeley asked.

"I don't know." Eirik, too, heard the rumbling off in the distance. Eirik and Keeley had made good time and were nearing the halfway point of their journey. But before they reached Mag Mell, the noise had begun. It sounded like thunder but the sky was almost clear. Suddenly another rumbling shook the ground. "That's odd."

"No, it's from behind us this time. Look!" Eirik turned to look at what his wife had seen. Behind them a dozen or so of Hibernia's defenders were charging on horseback towards their cart. Keeley tried to catch their attention as they passed. "What's going on?!" she yelled over the din. And elf maiden slowed down beside them. Eirik tried to understand the hasty explanation, but all he heard was "Albion" and "attack." Keeley's face turned white.

"Keeley! What's going on?!" Eirik's wife looked frantic.

"No! Eirik, we have to get to Tir na Nog!"

"Why? What's happening?"

"Just go! Quickly!" Keeley was nearly in tears. Eirik whipped their horse into a gallop. The riders had passed the cart and were far ahead when the pair round the hill and the city came into view. Eirik could not believe what he saw. Tir na Nog was in flames. Several orange fireballs erupted from the woods north of the city and streamed towards the towers. A group of Hibernia fighters charged the area but were met by plated soldiers, some bearing the crests of Eirik's old company. Keeley jumped from the cart and tried to run to the city, but Eirik grabbed her when he saw more Albion soldiers filing in from the north. "No! Let me go!" Keeley screamed.

"Keeley, wait!" Eirik grabbed her and pulled her back. Keeley struggled to break from his grasp but Eirik held his wife up against the side of the cart.

"We have to help them!" Eirik turned her around and showed her the soldiers not two hundred yards away who were setting up ballistas.

"We can't! There's too many of them!" Eirik watched as three more groups were swallowed up in the Albion zerg. "There's nothing we can do here. We must get word to the south." Keeley's eyes pleaded to her husband. Before she could say another word the ground beside the cart was ripped apart by a wizard's fireball. Eirik shielded Keeley as best he could but the horse was spooked and broke free of the cart. Eirik check his wife for injuries. "Keeley! Are you alright?" All Keeley did was wince in pain and suddenly Eirik found his boots drenched by her water.

"Páiste!" she cried. _No! Not the baby,_ Eirik's mind screamed

"Keeley! Is the baby hurt?" Keeley just shook her head and clenched her eyes shut.

"The baby...she's coming."

"What? How...?"

"It doesn't matter. She's coming _now!_" Keeley finally opened her eyes. "Look out!" Eirik ducked in time to miss being decapitated by a paladin's sword. Taking advantage of the soldier's fumbled attack, Eirik flipped his attacker's visor open and sent his fist through the opening. Stunned, the armored warrior staggered backwards a few steps allowing Eirik to knock the sword from his hands. A muffled scream emanated from the paladin's helmet as the ex-mercenary shoved the blade through the tough breast plate.

Keeley watched in horror as her husband yanked the crimson blade out of the paladin's chest. Finally shaking off her fear, Keeley pulled herself up to retrieve her own blades from the cart as the paladin's companions drew closer. Eirik cursed his lack of proper armor or weapons but before he had time to think an assassin sprung out from behind a bush. Eirik barely managed to deflect the initial blows. The Saracen Warder quickly switched weapons and spun around with his new blade leading the way. Eirik parried the first attack but the assassin's second blade nicked his forearm. Even though he could feel the burning, Eirik knew the wound was not deep enough to give the poison a chance to work its way further. The two men continued to duel but before Keeley could come to Eirik's aid another soldier charged on her.

Keeley steadied herself and stood poised for a counter attack with her twin short swords at the ready. The kilted fighter wore no helmet and the Celtling could see the cruel glee in his eyes as he bore down on her with his pike aimed straight for her heart. As the invader neared her position, Keeley's womb contracted sharply causing her to scream. All three combatants in the area paused for a moment. The armsman who was about to attack the Celt woman hesitated in confusion since he had yet to touch her and Eirik seized upon the opportunity. Before the infiltrator could turn his attention back to him, he felt Eirik's booted foot plant itself squarely in his groin. The diminutive man's eyes rolled back into his head as he dropped to the ground. Running the Saracen through and taking one of his stilettos Eirik turned his attention to Keeley's attacker.

With two weapons, Eirik was now more in his element. The armsman stood little chance as the dual-wielding fighter worked his blades between the gaps in his armor. Just as Eirik felled the armsman, the final member of the group arrived and dismounted from her horse. Eirik was taken aback when this new chain-armored fighter produced a whip.

"Arawanite!" he growled. The woman merely smirked and lashed her weapon across Eirik's chest. Eirik winced in response to the wound but quickly recovered and flew into a furious attack. The ex-mercenary put on a mighty display of two-bladed skill but the reaver held him at bay with her shield. Stepping back to rethink his strategy, Eirik dodged the woman's whip once more before attempting a head-on charge. This time he managed to grab her weapon hand but the reaver slid her shield between them before he could bring the stiletto home to her mid section. Eirik used the momentum of his attack to force the woman backwards against a tree. The two struggled against each other in vain and, throughout it all, the woman continued to grin at Eirik almost maniacally. Casually the reaver leaned her head in close and ran her tongue up Eirik's cheek obscenely. Horrified, Eirik broke off his attack and checked himself for poison. The woman responded with mocking laughter after licking her lips in satisfaction.

"Damn you, woman!" Eirik's flawless curse in the woman's own language erased her smile. The fighter charged in taking advantage of the reaver's confusion, but her skill with her shield proved a difficult obstacle. Eirik was getting nowhere until suddenly the woman stiffened. Opening her mouth in a silent scream the reaver fell to the ground revealing Keeley standing behind her holding two bloody swords.

"Just die." the Celt whispered to the dying woman. Keeley dropped her weapons and turned around. Tir na Nog's defenders were losing the battle. More of Hibernia's finest were arriving from the south but their numbers were too small to make a difference. Both of them watched as another one of the city's grand spires crumpled under the onslaught of fireballs. "How did this happen?" Keeley spoke softly then held her stomach and winced. Eirik rushed to hold her.

"We must leave." Keeley simply nodded stoically and grabbed a bag of her belongings off the cart. Eirik wrangled the dead reaver's horse and hefted his wife up into its saddle.

"To Hy Brasil, then. We'll be safe there."

* * *

"Almost there, Keeley." The pair had abandoned their mount when it became clear it was not going to make it all the way to the portal. It was dusk by the time they had reached the edge of Shannon Estuary and a light snow had begun falling. On foot, they could hear the Albion forces closing in and Keeley's frequent contractions made travel even slower. "There's the bridge! We've made it!" Breathless, Eirik and Keeley ran for the crossing but not before a fireball hit the ground beside them.

Eirik was thrown back as Keeley was thrust forward onto the bridge. Dazed, Eirik managed to get up. Keeley tried to run to him but another orange ball of flame ripped across the bridge setting it aflame. Eirik saw they were cut off from one another. "Keeley! Run!"

"Eirik!" The Celt woman did not run from her husband.

"Go!" Eirik pleaded for his wife to get to the portal but it was too late. Another bolt of flame hit the bridge blasting most of it into the water. Eirik stood and stared. Keeley was nowhere in sight. "No." His lament was almost inaudible.

"You!" Eirik spun around to face the source of the accusation. Before him - having witnessed everything - stood Ilisa brandishing her crescent swords. The blademistress stood out starkly against the snow-covered ground; the flames from the burning bridge illuminating her dark blue armor. "You did this! I don't know how you led them here, but I'll see to it you die for this!"

"Ilisa, no! Wait!" But Eirik's protests were in vain. The outer signs of her rage disappeared as the Bladesong poised herself for attack then leapt at Eirik with both blades flying. Eirik ducked and repositioned himself away from the bank as Ilisa recovered from her initial attack. Turning around, the elder blademistress was met by a puff of dirt which she had come to expect after years in the defense of Hibernia. Ducking the dirty fighting technique easily, Ilisa dove into the fight with a ferocity Eirik had never witnessed before in an opponent. Eirik continued to plead with her to stop but she paid no attention; giving herself over fully to her training.

Eirik tried hard to ward off her blows, but her superior skill and experience proved more than a match. Unaccustomed to his current weapons Eirik was pushed further and further back until he realized the futility of his defensive strategy. Slapping away a twin-bladed attack, Eirik slipped in closer and swiped at Ilisa's belly. The woman leapt out of the way as Eirik expected and brought his stiletto to pierce her flank. But Ilisa had seen this move before. Seeing her opening, Ilisa flipped her right blade around and slashed upwards across Eirik's face catching him in his left eye. The young man dropped his stolen stiletto crying out in pain and clutching his eye. The blademistress closed in for the kill just as yet another fireball landed between the combatants.

Eirik bore the full brunt of the explosion which sent him flying several yards away and landing hard on the ground. Slightly dazed and missing one of her blades, Ilisa brushed the dirt from her face and picked herself up off the ground. She saw her opponent lying unmoving on the ground a short distance in front of her.

"D'anam don diabhal," she cursed and spat in his direction. Ilisa sheathed her remaining sword and turned around to cross the water only to step right into an assassin's blades. The attack pierced the arteries in her neck and Ilisa grabbed at her throat in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. The Briton female stepped back and prepared for her next attack, but Ilisa staggered backwards a couple of steps before slumping to the ground as the poisons stole the life from her body. The infiltrator cautiously poked at the woman to be sure she was dead. Satisfied, she made the signal.

"All clear, sir!" Out of the trees, a soldier in officer's plate approached the spot where Eirik lay. The soldier examined the man for a moment then prodded him with his boot. Eirik was slipping in and out of consciousness and could only groan softly in response. Looking up with his one good eye he saw the armsman staring down at him through the slit in his helmet. After a moment of silence, the soldier removed his helmet and tossed it to the infiltrator.

"Mercenary. Surprised to see me?" All Eirik could do was lay beneath the captain in pain. He brought his hand back up to hold his wounded eye and Rhodri laughed. "Once again, mercenary, I've found you in a rather difficult position. Only this time," he paused, "I don't think I can save you." Eirik clenched his eye shut and felt the pain of his loss and exile as well as the physical pain from his wounds. In the blink of an eye he grabbed Rhodri's ankle and flung his foot out from beneath him. Unbalanced in his plate armor, Rhodri fell to the ground beside his captive. Eirik found Ilisa's second sword with his right hand and swung it down onto his former captain. The blade cut through his armor like butter, piercing the man's heart. Before Rhodri's life ended, Eirik leaned over him and last thing he saw was the one-eye, bloodied face of his former servant.

"Then I'll have to save myself, you son of a bitch." Eirik gave the blade in his chest an extra push, sending Rhodri to his death. The infiltrator that had witnessed everything was stunned by the ferocity of the attack but she soon recovered from the shock and drew her weapons.

"Hold, assassin!" came a voice from the shadows. The infiltrator paused. Before her approached an elderly mage flanked by two cloaked figures. Ignoring them she advanced on the prone fighter preparing to avenge the death of her captain. "I said 'hold', Katherine!" Startled, the woman examined her caller more closely before recognizing him as the leader of the guild of shadows. J'nar smirked, waiting for her next move. Torn between loyalties, the rogue stood in fear for a moment before standing down and sheathing her weapons. "Very good," J'nar spoke.

"We will take care of this, if you please, lieutenant" Cresil spoke and watched the young infiltrator hesitate before slinking off into the shadows. Cresil motioned to his companion to follow her. When both he and the girl were gone, Cresil took up a guarding position while his liege approached Eirik.

"Well, my boy, it looks as though I have even more for which to thank you. You have just taken care of a big problem of mine and in a way I could not have done better." J'nar looked over Rhodri's corpse. "Looks to me that our fine Captain was killed in battle with the forces of Hibernia. Wouldn't you say so, Cresil?" The assassin only stood silently beside his lord. J'nar chuckled at him before turning back to Eirik. "You have worked so hard all these years and without even knowing it. So here is you reward, boy." The ancient cabalist raised his staff over Eirik's head. Eirik tried to shield himself from the blinding light that followed.

* * *

In the Grove of Domnann the peaceful air was pierced by the sounds of a woman in labor. In the hollow trunk of one of the great trees, several sylvans tended to the wounded, pregnant woman brought to them by the ranger. Liam held Keeley's hand tightly as another contraction approached. The young woman screamed in pain.

"She is badly injured," one of the natives told the ranger.

"Tell me something I don't know, dammit! Help her!" The sylvan woman sighed and placed a reassuring hand on Liam's shoulder.

"We are doing everything we can," she spoke in soothing tones. Liam heard someone call his name and looked up to see Romana running up the stairs.

"Liam! What happened?" Romana grabbed Keeley's other hand opposite the ranger. Liam looked into Keeley's eyes which were wide with terror.

"She was thrown into the water. I managed to get her out and through the portal."

"And Eirik?" the young guardian asked. Keeley's gaze switched from Romana back to Liam. Liam did not answer.

"Eirik! Where's Eirik?" Keeley screamed as she felt another contraction. When Keeley was not looking Liam shook his head at Romana sadly.

"Eirik!" Keeley cried out again. "Where's Eirik?"

"Eirik will be here soon," Liam told her despite his lack of hope for her husband's safe return. The Sylvan woman held Keeley's head and tried to calm her.

"Keeley, your baby needs you now." The Sylvan's words played on Keeley's ears like a lullaby. Keeley let out another shriek as her child began to crown. "Good. Good. Now another push, Keeley. You can do it." Liam and Romana both felt Keeley squeeze their hands tightly to the point of pain. Keeley released her breath and gasped for air. A few seconds later an infant's cry was heard and a tall Sylvan woman placed Keeley's newborn on her chest. Keeley's face grew calm and she released her companions' hands to hold her child. The world around her seemed to stop as the baby girl opened her eyes and looked up at her mother. The Celt woman's face shone pure bliss.

"H-hello," Keeley paused for breath, "Abaigeal." Liam stole a glance at Romana who could barely hold back her tears.

Keeley took the towel handed her and swaddled her newborn. The red light that emanated from the room's magical sconces was gentle on Abaigeal's brown eyes allowing her to survey her mother's face. Keeley held her child close to her skin and mother and child delighted in each other's touch. Quickly, Abaigeal latched on to her mother's nipple and savored her first taste of her mother's milk.

"Liam," Keeley whispered to the ranger. Liam listened close as his friend's words trailed off.

"Keeley?" Liam urged the young woman back into consciousness but it was no use. Abaigeal began to cry just as Lady Eileen entered the room.

"M'lady! You must help her!" the ranger pleaded with the elderly druid. Eileen crouched next to Keeley and placed her hands on both her and her child and closed her eyes. After a few deathly silent moments, Eileen opened her eyes and shook her head.

"I am sorry, Liam. I cannot. Her spirit has traveled too far from this world and does not seem to wish to return. Perhaps for what she is looking is not here." Romana came to Liam's side and held him as his tears broke.

* * *

Keeley's body was interred in secret in Hy Brasil. An ancient sylvan shaman cast several wards around the site as Eileen performed the ceremony. "These spells will keep the fauna at bay." The old tree-man spoke in a gravelly voice. "They will keep her earthly vessel safe for as long as needed." A dark mood permeated the unremarkable ring of trees. Liam and Romana watched the ceremony in silence. Romana carried Abaigeal who slept peacefully in the guardian's arms. Back at the Grove, Eileen spoke.

"Any sign of the others, Seril?" The portal guardian shook her head. "Then we can only assume Ilisa and Eirik did not survive." Eileen paused for several moments in contemplation before she heaved a heavy sigh. "Close it," she commanded evenly. Liam protested but Eileen silenced him and addressed the guardian again. With a solemn wave of her hand, the portal's energies dissipated and only the sounds of birds chirping in the early morning dawn could be heard. Liam and Romana followed Eileen back into the settlement.

"What happened, Eileen?" The elderly druid knew this question to be on everyone's mind. She motioned for them to follow.

"We do not know for sure, Liam. Albion's forces found a weakness in our frontier gates. Druim Ligen was the first to fall. Only Glasny survived and she has yet to shed any light on the subject. The Albion army is sweeping down the land killing all those who resist."

"Then we are safe here in the Sylvan's home," Romana tried to assure herself as much as others. She looked down and gently rocked the sleeping Abaigeal. "Safe, but trapped," she told the child. Eileen turned to the fair-haired woman.

"We are neither safe nor trapped. It will only be a matter of time before Albion learns the secrets of the portal. Once they do this place will be flooded with their kind and all of the defenders who made it here to supposed safety will be wiped out." Eileen sighed and continued walking. "We must speak with Glasny. There is only one place we can go."

* * *

End of "The Morlock Chronicles, Part 1: The Highlander and the Celt."

* * *

Dedicated to the unknown Celtling who inspired me to write.

* * *

Find updated versions of this story (with epilogue), and the rest of my stories on AO3.

* * *

Posted October 25th, 2019


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